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THE 



CONDUCT OF LIFE, 



A SERIES OF ESSAYS. 



THE 



CONDUCT OF LIFE, 



A SERIES OF ESSAYS. 



1. FAMILY LIFE. 4. ACTIVE LIFE. 

2. SOCIAL LIFE. 5. POLITICAL LIFE. 

3. STUDIOUS LIFE. 6. MORAL LIFE. 

7. RELIGIOUS LIFE. 



BY 18S7 



' J 
GEORGE LO#$L, u , , JS& 

^** Washing ' 

BARRISTER-AT-LAW, +"*' 

AUTHOR OF " AN ESSAY ON THE MORAL NATURE OF MAN." 



1 To know- 
That which before us lies in daily life, 
Is the prime wisdom." Milton . 



LONDON: 

JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET. 

1845. 

\ 






PRINTED BY RICHARD AND JOHN E. TAYLOR, 
RED LION COURT, FLEET STREET. 



TO HER 



WHO HAS TAKEN A LTVELY INTEREST 



IN THE 



PROGRESS OF THIS WORK 



IT IS NOW 



INSCRIBED 



BY HER HUSBAND 



THE AUTHOR. 



PREFACE. 



The following Essays contain results of the 
observations and reflections of the author 
on human life and conduct, founded on an 
extensive intercourse with persons in various 
stations,, and in all degrees of intellectual 
cultivation, — from the peer to the peasant, 
from the learned to the ignorant, from those 
of refined manners and elegant taste to the 
uninstructed children of nature. It has 
often occurred to him, that reflections on 
the conduct of human life, grounded on 
correct observation, and directed by a sin- 
cere desire to point out what should be 
pursued and what avoided, might be gene- 
rally useful, and could hardly fail to be so 
to the young and inexperienced, and to that 
large class of the community, who, though 
youth has passed away, have acquired but 
very limited habits of observation and re- 



Vlll PREFACE. 

flection. Such a work might, he thought 
(in the words of Bacon), " come home to 
" men's business and bosoms." 

The most important relations of life are 
the subjects of the following Essays, which 
commence with our family connexions, and 
conclude with that, in comparison with 
which all others sink into insignificance, 
—the relation in which we stand to our 
Maker. 

Though the style of this work is neces- 
sarily didactic, yet, considering the extent 
and importance of its subjects, the author 
cannot send it into the world without a feel- 
ing of sincere, and even painful diffidence. 
Happy will he be, if it, in any degree, attain 
the end which he has aimed at ; still more 
so, if he should be instrumental in inducing 
any one fitted by genius and learning to take 
a leading part in forming and directing the 
opinions and sentiments of mankind, to de- 
vote his time and talents to the important 
subject of the Conduct of Human Life. 

Wimpole Street, December, 1844. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



ESSAY I. FAMILY LIFE. 

Page 

Husband and Wife 1-9 

Parents and Children 10-43 

The early Period of Childhood 10-14 

The more advanced Period 14-23 

Children become Men and Women 23-43 

Brothers and Sisters 43-49 

Masters and Servants 49-54 

ESSAY II. SOCIAL LIFE. 

Conversation 55-7 8 

Friendship 78-83 

Recreations and Amusements 83-88 

Tours and Travelling 88-93 

ESSAY III. STUDIOUS LIFE. 

Preliminary Considerations 94-97 

Object of Study 97-99 

Course of Study 99-102 

Arrangement of Time 103-105 

Regard to Health 105-108 

Cautions 108-112 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



ESSAY IV. ACTIVE LIFE. 

Page 

Integrity 113-116 

Ambition and inordinate Love of Gain 116-121 

The Medical and Legal Professions 121-126 

The Clergy 126-127 

Trade, &c 127-128 

The Poor 128-129 



ESSAY V. POLITICAL LIFE. 

Political Duties 130-134 

Party Spirit , 134-135 

The Elective Franchise 135-141 



ESSAY VI. MORAL LIFE. 

Excellence and Supremacy of the Moral Principle .. 142-147 
Development and Direction of Moral Sentiments ... 147-150 



ESSAY VII. RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

Religion our chief Concern 151-156 

Quotation from Hartley 156-158 

A Future State and the Forgiveness of Sins assured 

by Christianity 158-166 

Candour in judging others respecting Religion 166-169 

Importance of forming just Conceptions of the Deity 170-172 

Christian Privileges 172-173 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. XI 

Page 

Narrow and Bigoted Views of Religion 173-175 

Christian Liberty 175-178 

Christianity as taught by the Apostles and early 

Teachers 178-188 

Persecutions by Christians 188-191 

Purity and Perfection of Christianity 191-195 

Beneficial Effects of Christianity on Sceptics and 

Unbelievers 195-197 

Recapitulation 198-199 

Humility 199-204 

Purity 204-207 

The Love of God 207-208 

The Clergy and the Laity 208-212 

Our Sinfulness 212-213 

Prayer 213-222 

Public Worship 222-226 

Family Prayer 226-228 

Access to Churches 228-230 

The Tendency of Prayer to teach Resignation to the 

Will of God 230-232 

Conformity to the Will of God *.. 232-234 

The Christian Warfare 234-235 

Consolations of Christianity in Affliction, and Anti- 
cipations of a Future State 235-239 



ERRATA. 

Page 24, line 10, for on read no. 

— 46, — 4, for life read lives. 

— 140, — 2, stfnTce owf the time of. 

— 194, — 3, , instead of;. 



THE 

CONDUCT OF LIFE. 



ESSAY I. 

FAMILY LIFE. 

IN commencing a series of essays on the 
conduct of life, what can be so properly the 
first subject of our consideration as family 
life ? In our own families we find those who 
are most deeply affected by our virtues and 
by our vices ; those who will be benefited by 
the former and injured by the latter in the 
highest degree. The influence of the ma- 
jority of mankind extends but little beyond 
the family circle ; but every one has it in 
his power to be a blessing or a curse to those 

B 



2 FAMILY LIFE. 

of his own household. And is this always 
duly considered ? Does it not, on the con- 
trary, frequently happen that the members 
of a man's own family are those alone to whom 
the worst parts of his character are exposed; 
and that while his smiles and good humour 
beam on all his acquaintance, he acts at 
home the part of a negligent, cold and tyran- 
nical husband, a harsh and severe father, 
and an imperious and unfeeling master ? 
Many, whose characters stand well with the 
world, are amiable and agreeable to all but 
the inmates of their own house, to whom their 
conduct is of by far the greatest importance. 
In considering what ought to be the daily 
course of life in the various relations which 
constitute a family, we shall pursue the 
following order: — 1. Husband and Wife. 
2. Parents and Children. 3. Brothers and 
Sisters. 4. Masters and Servants. 

Husband and Wife. — The most impor- 
tant relations of domestic life are undoubtedly 
those of husband and wife, and parent and 



FAMILY LIFE. 3 

child. The same principles, feelings, senti- 
ments and habits which lead to a just per- 
formance of the duties resulting from one of 
those relations, will have an equally favour- 
able operation on the other. An affectionate 
husband will in general be found to be a kind 
father ; and he who fails in his duty in the 
former character, seldom appears to more ad- 
vantage in the latter. This we believe to 
be the general rule, though it cannot be 
denied that it has exceptions. 

The nearest approach which can be made 
by human beings to a complete union in 
sentiment and feeling, in joy and sorrow, in 
hope and fear, in objects and pursuits, is in 
the relation of husband and wife. They 
are the companions of all hours, and are to 
continue to be so during the whole period 
of their united existence in this world ; 
one interest links them together in every 
thing ; and, if they have children, they stand 
in the same relation to them, and have the 
same natural affection, and the same hopes 
and wishes for their happiness. These cir- 

b2 



4 FAMILY LIFE. 

cumstances go far to establish an identity ot 
feelings and objects between married per- 
sons, and never fail strongly to tend towards 
establishing such identity where the parties 
have entered into the married state on pro- 
per principles, and are mutually actuated by 
a sincere desire to fulfil the duties which 
they have voluntarily taken upon them- 
selves. 

No two human beings, however, with 
whatever degree of affection, esteem and 
respect they may regard each other, can be 
completely in unison in all matters of opi- 
nion, feeling, sentiment and taste ; nor 
quite of the same mind in all particulars as 
to the course of life which they may desire 
to pursue. Differences must always exist 
more or less between married persons. 
Hence the necessity of mutual forbearance, 
and a willingness on both sides to yield to 
the wishes of the other party. Now this 
necessity is in truth an advantage, as it im- 
poses on each of them the constant care of 
regulating their own conduct with a view to 



FAMILY LIFE. 

the happiness of the other; and is just the 
discipline which is requisite for such a being 
as man, to give him that self-command, and 
that control of his passions and inclinations 
which are highly favourable to his well-being 
in this world, and eminently fitted to prepare 
him for the unspeakably greater happiness 
of the world to come. 

The ordinary circumstances of human life 
afford continual and daily opportunities to 
married persons to exercise the duty of mu- 
tual forbearance. It is constantly called 
into action in avoiding topics of conversation 
which are known to be disagreeable to the 
other party; in abstaining from unnecessarily 
contradicting one another ; in restraining 
the indulgence of the taste of one when it 
would lead to something unpleasant to the 
other; and, in short, in laying the inclinations 
of each party under continual restraint for 
the purpose of giving pleasure to the other. 
Prudence in regard to pecuniary matters 
affords a great security for the permanence 
of matrimonial felicity. Nothing is more 



6 FAMILY LIFE. 

calculated to disturb the harmony which 
should subsist between husband and wife 
than pecuniary embarrassment. If it be oc- 
casioned by the misconduct of both parties, 
mutual recriminations may be expected ; if 
one only be in fault, it will rarely happen, 
and only when the innocent party is of an 
unusually amiable character, that bitter re- 
proaches will not be cast on the other whose 
imprudence has been the cause of the em- 
barrassment. 

An agreement, either express or implied, 
between husband and wife respecting the 
mode of living, and all the arrangements of 
the family, is of the utmost importance. If 
there be no regular arrangement as to what 
is to be done every day, confusion must 
constantly prevail. Each party will be con- 
tinually doing something inconsistent with 
the pursuits and employments of the other, 
and perpetual disputes and dissensions will 
be the probable consequence. 

A constant mutual desire in husband and 
wife to gratify each other, and, what must 



FAMILY LIFE. 



result from it, a watchful attention to each 
other's wants and wishes, will give continual 
opportunities of using those little attentions, 
and availing themselves of those frequently 
occurring circumstances, which, though in- 
dividually small, make up in the whole a 
large item in the amount of matrimonial 
happiness ; and tend, in no small degree, to 
cement and to increase the feeling of mutual 
tenderness and affection which is its prin- 
cipal ingredient. 

Disagreements between husband and wife 
not unfrequently arise respecting their chil- 
dren. The feelings of parents towards their 
children belong properly to our next head ; 
but a caution will not be out of place here 
to parents carefully to avoid making them- 
selves parties in any contest between one of 
their children and the other parent. Nature 
points out the respective parts which fathers 
and mothers ought to take in the manage- 
ment of their children. The tender fondness 
of the mother will generally incline her to 
too much indulgence, while the more re- 



8 FAMILY LIFE. 

fleeting mind and the firmer resolution of 
the father may sometimes induce him to 
adopt means somewhat too rigorous for the 
attainment of a beneficial end. If they both 
possess good sense and good feeling, they 
may, in a considerable degree, correct each 
other's errors. The firmness of the husband 
may give strength to the wife ; and the 
tenderness of the wife may soften the undue 
rigor of the husband. 

In the early period of married life difficul- 
ties will often arise from jealousies between 
the parents and near relations of the husband 
and wife respectively. As the wife takes 
the name of her husband, she becomes, as it 
were, incorporated into his family, and her 
own relations may be apt to think that with 
her name she has changed her feelings to- 
wards them. On the other hand, the affec- 
tion of daughters for their parents is in 
general so much stronger than that of sons 
as to lead to a greater intimacy and more 
frequent communication between the family 
of the wife and the married couple, than be- 



FAMILY LIFE. y 

tween them and the family of the husband. 
A considerable degree of care and discretion 
is often required to prevent or to allay the 
jealous feelings which arise in these rela- 
tions of life. 

The situation of newly married persons 
in regard to those with whom they have pre- 
viously lived in habits of intimacy and friend- 
ship is often no less embarrassing. The 
friend of the husband may be disagreeable 
to the wife, or the friend of the wife to the 
husband. It is a great happiness when the 
friends of each party can become friends 
of the other, but this cannot always be the 
case ; and both husband and wife ought to 
bear in mind that the matrimonial connexion 
is of higher importance than friendship ; and 
that if it should become necessary, in some 
degree, to sacrifice the one to the other, the 
latter ought to yield to the former. 

Most of all is a deep sense of religion, re- 
gulating the whole conduct of life, important 
in the married state. But the subject of 
religion will be considered in our last essay. 



10 FAMILY LIFE. 

Parents and Children. — -As it is in- 
tended to give a separate consideration to 
the subject of religion in the last of these 
essays, we shall here confine our attention to 
what concerns the well-being of parents and 
children in this world. 

In the very earliest period of life the pa- 
rent has little more to do than to attend to 
the physical wants of the child, and to en- 
deavour to give it all the enjoyment of which 
it is capable. When a young child feels 
pain or uneasiness, it never fails to give 
indications of it by cries and tears. Great 
care should be taken to remove, if possible, 
the cause of its uneasiness, not only with a 
view to its present enjoyment, but because 
the foundation of its future temper will 
probably be laid in early life. Perverse and 
ill-tempered children probably often become 
so by suffering pain which the anxious care 
of an observing and sensible mother might 
have prevented. 

The process of forming the moral and 
the intellectual character should proceed 



FAMILY LIFE. 11 

simultaneously ; but by far the greater part 
of the attention of the parents, and parti- 
cularly of the mother in the earlier years 
of the child's existence, should be directed 
to the development of its moral faculties, 
and the formation of its moral habits. 
The bountiful Creator has implanted in the 
heart of man the seeds of moral worth, 
and he has given him passions which ought 
to be made the elements of virtue, but 
which, when abused, become the sources of 
vice. The kind, attentive and intelligent 
parent will carefully and deeply observe and 
consider the development of those sentiments 
and passions, and anxiously endeavour to 
turn them into their proper channels. Sym- 
pathy with others makes its appearance at 
an early period ; a very young child soon 
finds out by whom he is regarded with 
interest and affection, and begins to love 
those by whom he is beloved. If, on the other 
hand, the child be treated unkindly, he 
quickly resents such treatment. Here then 
commences the moral education of the child. 



12 FAMILY LIFE. 

It may yet be indulged in most of its wishes, 
for the time of moral discipline has hardly 
arrived. The object should now be to lay 
the foundation of its affections, and to fix it 
on those who are most deeply, and will be 
most lastingly interested in its welfare. The 
mother should be as much as possible the 
companion of her children. If she leave the 
care of them to nurses, they, and not the 
mother, will be the first objects of the child's 
affection. The father cannot to anything 
like the same extent spend his time with his 
children ; but their attention should be di- 
rected as much as possible to him ; and they 
may soon and easily be taught to look for- 
ward with eager anticipations of delight to 
his society and to his caresses. 

Next to the parents in their relation to 
the child stand the brothers and sisters ; 
and the kind and intelligent parent will en- 
deavour to the utmost to form and to 
strengthen the affections of their children 
towards each other. Where there is no great 
difference of age there will in general be little 



FAMILY LIFE. 13 

difficulty. Human nature, in every stage of 
life beyond the period of infancy, desires 
society, and feels the necessity of a com- 
panion to the completion of its own enjoy- 
ment. When the difference of age between 
children is but small, and their stock of 
ideas is pretty much the same, their wishes 
and their amusements are not likely to 
differ very materially ; and the circumstance 
of their being companions in their amuse- 
ments will naturally tend to attach them 
to each other. Very often however differ- 
ences of taste and feeling will arise between 
them, notwithstanding this general agree- 
ment, as to the particular time of seek- 
ing their amusements, and as to various cir- 
cumstances connected with them. One of 
more vigorous health and livelier spirits may 
be often inclined to continue his play when 
his companion feels fatigued, and desires 
nothing but rest. This and many other 
incidents will tend to disputes and quar- 
rels, which a tender parent will always en- 
deavour to crush in the bud. Throughout 



14 FAMILY LIFE. 

the whole period of childhood it is most im- 
portant to prevent quarrels between brothers 
and sisters ; which often lead to an estrange- 
ment which lasts to the period of manhood, 
and sometimes through the whole of life. For 
this reason it does not in general seem desi- 
rable that brothers should be educated at the 
same school. School-boys are apt to quarrel, 
and to form themselves into sets and parties 
which are violently opposed to each other. 
If brothers should quarrel at school, where 
there are none of those softening and recon- 
ciling circumstances which belong to home ; 
and if they should engage respectively in 
separate and opposing parties (events very 
likely to happen) , their affection for each other 
may be often weakened and even destroyed ; 
and a foundation may thus be laid for cold- 
ness and estrangement, and in some cases 
for dislike and enmity in after life. 

As the child advances in life, the moral 
culture should be carried on by encouraging 
every act of kindness to those around him ; 
and it is particularly desirable that this should 



FAMILY LIFE. 15 

be extended beyond those who ought to be 
the first objects of his love. Children should 
be early taught to appreciate (what few duly 
appreciate at any period of life) the advan- 
tages they enjoy from the service of domes- 
tics ; and should be made to understand that 
servants are of the same nature and possess 
the same feelings as themselves ; and that if 
they are inferior to their masters and mis- 
tresses, it is in general only because they 
have come into the world under less favor- 
able circumstances. Parents who wish to 
form the moral character of their children 
should be especially careful to abstain from 
all haughty and irritable conduct to their 
servants. It is to be feared that children 
but too frequently regard servants as an in- 
ferior race of beings, the purpose of whose 
existence is to administer to the wants and 
pleasure of their masters. 

Children should be early acquainted with 
the privations and distresses of the poor and 
indigent, and should be made to know and 
feel that it is only by the bounty of God 



it) FAMILY LIFE. 

that they are not exposed to the like priva- 
tion and misery. 

Without self-control there can be little 
which deserves the name of virtue ; but to 
form the mind of a child to self-control is a 
most difficult task. Disappointment occa- 
sions great pain to a child, much greater 
than grown people are apt to recollect, and, 
in addition to present pain, it tends to sour 
the temper. In after life we get inured to 
disappointment, and are all apt to forget how 
sore an affliction it is to a child. Every 
tolerably well-disciplined mind learns to bear 
pain, bodily or mental, with a degree of 
composure to which the child is a stranger. 
He has not yet learned how to suffer. Chil- 
dren ought to be taught to bear disappoint- 
ment, for that must be their lot in life ; 
but the care of the parent should be that 
this most important lesson should be learned 
with the least possible pain. Let the child first 
feel disappointment in matters about which 
he is not greatly concerned, and let a severer 
discipline be adopted by slow degrees. 



FAMILY LIFE. 17 

It is of the utmost importance to impress 
on a child's mind the most profound regard 
to truth, and a detestation of every kind and 
degree of falsehood. But to effect this end 
parents must not forget that example is far 
more efficacious than precept. If they allow to 
themselves any deviation from truth ; if they 
give false or evasive answers to the child's 
questions, in order to save themselves trou- 
ble, as many parents do, or if the child dis- 
cover in any instance that his parent is 
deceiving him, how can it be expected that 
the love of truth will expand and flourish in 
his young mind ? Let truth and sincerity 
prevail in the whole conduct of the parent 
to the child, if he hope to find those quali- 
ties in the character of his offspring. 

Habits of order and regularity should be 
early taught to a child, as they will eminent- 
ly conduce to his success in whatever he 
may be engaged when he has arrived at 
a maturer age. He should be instructed to 
put everything in its proper place, and to 
do everything at the proper time. This 



18 FAMILY LIFE. 

however may easily be carried too far. A 
certain degree of carelessness is natural and 
graceful in early youth. A little old man 
or woman in the shape of a child is not 
very agreeable • nor is such a one likely to 
attain any high degree of virtue as a man or 
woman. If too much restraint be laid on 
the child, he will probably grow up a dull 
formalist, more regarding seasons, times and 
forms, than aiming to acquire intrinsic ex- 
cellence of character. 

Great is the importance of teaching a child 
the value of money. He should soon have 
something which he can call his own, and 
should be taught that his means of gratify- 
ing his inclinations will depend in a consi- 
derable degree on the use he makes of his 
little fund. Children are apt to think that 
their parents' means of giving them pleasure, 
by procuring for them what they desire to 
possess, are unlimited. This error should be 
corrected as early as possible. 

The subject of early intellectual education 
would afford matter for a large volume. Our 



FAMILY LIFE. 19 

observations in this essay must be very ge- 
neral. The great instructress in the early 
period of life is the mother ; and thrice happy 
is the lot of the child who enjoys the inesti- 
mable advantage of an affectionate, intelli- 
gent and active mother's love. Nothing can 
supply the want of her attentions and in- 
structions ; and to her far more than to all 
his future instructors is committed the un- 
speakably important task of forming his 
character, both intellectual and moral. No 
one but herself can feel her tenderness ; 
none will give the like unremitting atten- 
tion ; none, if she live constantly with her 
children as she ought to do, can so well 
j udge of the extent of their capacity, of their 
habits of observation and of thought, and 
of the mental peculiarities which are to be 
found in every individual. 

People are apt to think the great step in 
the intellectual education of a child is to 
teach him his letters ; and many a self-satis- 
fied mother's heart expands with exultation 
when she finds that her little one has per- 



20 FAMILY LIFE, 

formed the mighty achievement of learning 
his alphabet at an unusually early period. 
This vanity however is likely to end in vexa- 
tion of spirit. There seems to be no ad- 
vantage whatever in the very early com- 
mencement of literary education. There is 
another sort of education much more im- 
portant, and much more easily carried on in 
the first years of life. A child soon begins 
to notice with curiosity the objects around 
him. To satisfy that curiosity should be the 
business of his mother. The questions which 
he asks will often be troublesome, and 
sometimes such as the mother may not be 
able to answer. She should not however 
adopt the very general practice of evading 
the questions ; but her rule should be to 
give all the information in her power to the 
extent to which the child is capable of un- 
derstanding her. The gratification of our 
curiosity is a pleasure at all periods of life. 
The desire to know something new seems 
universal in human nature, and is pursued 
with equal ardour perhaps by the philosopher 



FAMILY LIFE. 21 

in searching for some new truth, and the in- 
habitant of a country town, who desires to 
know what his neighbour has for dinner ; 
by the patriot seeking the best means of 
advancing the interests of his country, and 
the spinster of advanced years, whose delight 
it is to superintend the love-affairs of all the 
young people of her acquaintance. If the 
mother, in all practicable cases, satisfy the 
curiosity of the child, that gratification will 
stimulate him to make further inquiries ; and 
may thus become the source of a spirit of in- 
vestigation which may be of incalculable be- 
nefit to himself and others in the course of 
his future life. It will also be well to en- 
courage the child to express his own opi- 
nions, and to explain to him in what respect 
he appears to be in error. This " teach- 
ing the young idea how to shoot" cannot 
fail to be a ''delightful task," when pursued 
with kindness and with discretion. No 
doubt indeed it is sometimes wearying, 
but what weariness will not a tender mother 
endure for her child ! Let her only watch 



22 FAMILY LIFE. 

the movements of the child's mind, and 
everything in the room in which they sit, 
and every object which they see in their 
walks, maybe made a subject of instruction. 
With regard to the great affair of learning 
the alphabet, there can be little difficulty. 
If the child's curiosity be properly stimulated, 
he will at a suitable age be himself desirous 
of being taught to read as he sees others do 
so. The simple plan of throwing about the 
room the letters of the alphabet on pieces of 
wood or card, would perhaps lead the minds 
of most children to desire to know what is 
the meaning of those things. 

When the child has learned to read, what 
sort of books ought he to read ? A very 
general answer must suffice here. Amuse- 
ment and instruction must be united ; and 
the latter should be as little set and formal 
as possible. Narratives, either of fact or 
fiction, of such a nature as will tend to draw 
out and strengthen all the most noble and 
virtuous emotions and sentiments of the hu- 
man heart, are to be preferred to all other 



FAMILY LIFE. 23 

reading. The views given of human life 
should be just ; but if there be a leaning at 
all it should be on the favorable side. To 
fill the mind of a child with gloomy antici- 
pations of the world into which he is about 
to enter, is laying the foundation of qualities 
which are likely to be extremely injurious to 
his own happiness, and to that of those with 
whom he will be connected in the progress 
of life. But we are now arrived at the 
period when the boys are to be sent to 
school, and the girls likewise, or to be 
placed in the hands of a governess at 
home. We will here therefore leave them 
to the care of their respective instructors, 
till the period when they return as young 
men and women to the home of their 
parents. 

How delightful is it to behold a happy 
family, where one common feeling of affec- 
tion prevails among all its members ; where 
the parental authority is softened by kind- 
ness, and the filial duty accompanied by a 
feeling of the highest respect and the most 



24 FAMILY LIFE. 

confiding friendship ! Thrice happy are the 
parents and children who regard each other 
as the most intimate of friends ; and such 
instances are to be found. But how different 
is the scene in most families ! How often do 
we find the parental authority stretched be- 
yond all reasonable bounds, and the children 
acting with no other regard to the parents 
than that which fear inspires ! Frequently 
on confidence exists between parents and 
their children; but the latter do all they can 
to conceal their actions from their parents ; 
while the parents are discovering, from other 
sources, what a happy mutual confidence 
would occasion them to be informed of by 
the children themselves. Parents often com- 
mit the double error of treating children as 
if thev were never to be men and women, 
and young men and women as if they were 
still children. They find them, during the 
period of childhood, entertaining playthings ; 
and indulge all their wayward humours, 
without giving themselves the trouble to 
correct them, and without considering that 



FAMTLY LIFE. 25 

they are by this indulgence forming such 
habits as will in the end make their children 
unhappy themselves, and the cause of un- 
happiness to their parents. When they are 
grown up to be young men and women, the 
parents are apt to forget the desire of in- 
dependent action which belongs to their 
season of life ; that their sons and daughters 
have plans and projects of their own ; have 
pursuits which they wish to follow, and 
friends with whom they desire to associate. 
Often the parents think little of all this. They 
are indeed anxious for the personal appear- 
ance of their children in the world, for in 
this their own vanity is concerned. If the 
children possess superior talents, the parents 
delight in witnessing the exercise of them 
for the same reason, so long as it does not 
compete with any talent of their own. If 
the daughters possess beauty or accomplish- 
ments, the parents are proud to display them, 
as some part of the admiration they excite 
is reflected on themselves. In public there- 



26 FAMILY LIFE. 

fore they seem all kindness, but frequently ap- 
pear at home in quite a different character. 

Such are the faults of parents respect- 
ing their children ; and charges at least 
equally heavy may be brought against chil- 
dren on account of their conduct to their pa- 
rents. The generality of parents are neither 
very bad nor very good. They perform their 
duty imperfectly, but still to such an extent 
as to lay an obligation on their children which 
can never be adequately discharged. Many 
put themselves to considerable inconveni- 
ence, and submit to many privations, for the 
purpose of giving their children the advan- 
tage of an education superior to what they 
have themselves enjoyed. This is perhaps 
the part of the parent's duty which is in 
general best performed ; and though it might 
often appear, on a careful analysis of the 
parent's motives, that a regard to self held 
a larger share in them than we should de- 
sire to find, yet much must in candour be 
ascribed to real affection for the children ; 



FAMILY LIFE. 27 

and the benefit conferred upon them is of a 
high order. The child ought to feel grati- 
tude to his parents for this advantage ; in- 
stead of which it too often happens that his 
mind is possessed with a sense of his supe- 
riority to his parents, which he owes entirely 
to their kindness and self-denial exercised 
for his benefit. 

Young persons are too apt to forget that 
their residence with their parents often oc- 
casions new arrangements in the family, 
which are adopted for their sakes, and 
obliges the parents to deviate from that 
course of life which, on their own account, 
they would prefer. The friends of the chil- 
dren are received at the father's house, 
society is entered into, to an extent much 
beyond what the parents desire, for the sake 
of introducing their children into the world. 
The parents accompany them to public places 
of amusement much more for their sakes 
than for their own ; and there is a continual 
anxiety in the minds of most parents, and a 
perpetual conflict between a desire on one 

c2 



28 FAMILY LIFE. 

hand to give their children all those advan- 
tages of appearance and of accomplishments 
which are considered to belong to their sta- 
tion in life, but which can only be procured 
at a considerable expense, and a just feeling 
of the duty of the parent to meet the ex- 
penses necessary to set the sons out in the 
world in the professions and business to 
which they are brought up, to raise marriage 
portions for the daughters, and to acquire 
fortunes for them at the period when death 
shall put an end to the father's exertions 
for their benefit. On the whole, in ordinary 
cases, the weight of obligation of the child 
to the parent is very great, and should never 
be forgotten. 

Sons and daughters seldom think enough 
of the incessant toils of the father and the 
increasing anxieties of the mother on their 
account. Many fathers devote almost the 
whole of at least six days of the week to the 
toils of business, chiefly for the purpose of 
providing for their families ; while the anxi- 
ous mother, on whom the perpetual avo- 



FAMILY LIFE. 29 

cations of her husband have thrown almost 
the whole care of the family, has the daily 
and most difficult task of directing, restrain- 
ing and advising her children in all that be- 
longs to the conduct of life at that period 
when direction, restraint and advice are felt 
burdensome by the children, though known 
to the mother to be necessary to prevent 
their engaging in such pursuits and forming 
such habits and connexions as would be 
seriously injurious to them. 

Nothing in general occasions such un- 
happy differences between parents and chil- 
dren as the subject of marriage ; and both 
parties are often greatly to blame. It is 
quite certain that the principles, characters 
and tempers of husband and wife are the 
principal constituents of matrimonial hap- 
piness ; but unhappily both parents and 
children are usually looking almost exclu- 
sively to matters of inferior consideration. 
Even persons of respectable character, and 
whose general conduct is influenced by 
higher motives, think little of anything ex- 



30 FAMILY LIFE. 

cept fortune and rank in the matrimonial 
connexions of their children. This is partly 
to be attributed to a regard to prudential 
considerations, and partly to motives of 
pride, vanity and ambition. An over-anxiety 
on the first head is very excusable ; the 
motives last mentioned belong to the worst 
forms of selfishness. Young persons, on the 
other hand, have little regard to anything 
beyond satisfying the present inclination. 
Attracted by beauty of person, agreeable 
manners, showy talents, or elegant accom- 
plishments, they surrender their hearts at 
once ; and their imaginations invest the 
beloved object, of whose real character they 
know little or nothing, with every virtue 
under heaven. Nothing can be more diffi- 
cult than to reconcile parents and children 
on this subject. The value of money can 
be justly appreciated by those only who have 
known the want of it. There seems no other 
mode of teaching young persons to pay a 
due regard to pecuniary matters, than what 
has been already recommended, placing early 



FAMILY LIFE. 31 

in their hands a certain fixed sum, and 
leaving them to supply a part of their 
wants for that fund, and to look to it for 
the means of enjoying amusements, and 
making purchases to "which they may feel 
inclined. Parents should look back to the 
earlier period of their lives, and recall as 
much as they can the feelings by which they 
were themselves actuated in forming matri- 
monial connexions. The passion of love is 
peculiarly exposed to ridicule from the in- 
tense feeling belonging to it, which natu- 
rally leads each party greatly to exaggerate 
the merits of the other. Let however a 
man of the coolest head take the calmest 
view of the subject, and, unless he be un- 
usually wanting in sensibility, he cannot 
fail to admit that it is of the highest im- 
portance that those who are to stand in the 
relation of husband and wife, should, pre- 
viously to engaging in that connexion, feel 
the warmest affection, and have the most 
decided preference for each other. Mar- 
riage certainly should not be entered into 



32 FAMILY LIFE. 

without a full attention to rational conside- 
rations ; but the proper business of reason 
is to confirm what the feelings and affections 
have prompted. If we look for a reason why 
particular individuals prefer one another, we 
take a wrong course. The preference is not 
a matter of reason, but of sentiment. If 
reason can show us either that the beloved 
object is unworthy of our regard, or that 
circumstances exist which render a marriage 
between the parties inexpedient, and more 
likely to produce misery than happiness, 
these are conclusive objections ; but if a 
man is to wait till he has fairly and fully esti- 
mated the good qualities of all his female 
acquaintance before he selects one whom 
he hopes to make his wife, it seems probable 
that celibacy will be his portion for life. Let 
inclination have its full course when there 
is no rational objection to its indulgence. 
Do we not through life find that some per- 
sons are agreeable and others disagreeable 
to us long before we have attained a know- 
ledge of their characters ; and that the degree 



FAMILY LIFE. 33 

in which they are so by no means bears an 
exact proportion to our esteem for their cha- 
racters when they are known? Does any 
man blame another for selecting a particular 
individual for his friend because there are 
others within his reach who appear to be 
more worthy ? Why then is not the same 
liberty of following one's inclination to be 
allowed in marriage as in friendship ? And 
let us a little consider what are the real 
prospects of persons about to enter into the 
married state. That married life is, in ge- 
neral, at least in middle and in old age, 
happier than celibacy, cannot be denied ; and 
indeed it would be hardly short of atheism 
to deny it, for human beings were evidently 
formed for marriage. There are no doubt ex- 
ceptions to this general rule, of persons who 
from peculiarities of temper, habits and pur- 
suits are not fitted to enjoy matrimonial 
felicity ; but these exceptions are very rare. 
Though matrimonial life, however, is in ge- 
neral greatly to be preferred, it has its own 
cares and pains, and of such a nature and 

c 5 



34 FAMILY LIFE. 

degree, that perhaps there are few who have 
been long married who have not at some 
time or other regretted having entered into 
the married state. If they have children, 
they cannot escape, even under the happiest 
circumstances, great and frequent cares, an- 
noyances and vexations ; and if they have 
none, that very circumstance is generally 
productive of more or less uneasiness and 
discontent. Marriage is a great restraint 
on liberty, at least to the husband ; and 
this is often felt, particularly by those who 
marry early in life, to be a great drawback 
on matrimonial felicity ; so much so indeed 
as to be a very serious objection to very 
young men entering into the married state, 
unless they happen to be of peculiarly quiet 
and domestic habits. No two newly married 
persons, even where there has been a long 
previous intimacy, can be perfectly acquaint- 
ed with each other's tempers, and they must 
be unusually fortunate if both parties do not 
find more to bear and to forbear than they 
expected. In truth married life has more 



FAMILY LIFE. 35 

pain as well as more pleasure than single 
life ; and much more self-denial is in general 
called for in the former than in the latter 
state. How desirable then must it be that 
the strong affection should exist between 
married persons which makes the gratifica- 
tion of the other one of the greatest delights 
of each of them ! Surely these considerations 
should have great weight in the minds of 
parents in deterring them from thwarting the 
inclinations of their children, unless where 
prudence and propriety require them to do 
so. Let them also bear in mind the extreme 
importance of marriage to their daughters, 
over whom in general the greatest parental 
influence is exercised ; and how forlorn is in 
many cases the condition of single women in 
the latter period of their lives. A father who 
opposes the marriage of his daughter from 
any other motive than a regard to her hap- 
piness, incurs an awful responsibility. 

Marriage is the most frequent cause of 
disagreement between parents and their 
children, particularly their daughters. Next 



36 FAMILY LIFE. 

to this, and perhaps in the case of sons, 
hardly less frequent, are the disputes which 
arise respecting the choice of a profession 
or business. Here the father is, in general, 
far better able to judge than the son ; and 
the dislike of the latter to any particular 
profession would no doubt in most cases 
speedily wear away if he were once fairly 
engaged in it. Still nothing can justify a 
father in forcing his son into a line of life to 
which he feels an insuperable dislike. No 
one can fully understand the feelings of 
another ; and a distaste for a profession 
may have taken such deep root in the 
mind of a young man that nothing may be 
able to eradicate it. In this matter the 
province of the father is to convince and 
persuade , beyond this he ought not to go, 
but should leave the decision to the son. 
Parents who have ecclesiastical patronage 
are too often tempted to put their sons into 
the church, though they are well aware 
that they are wholly wanting in that deep 
sense of religion, and in the knowledge and 



FAMILY LIFE. 37 

attainments which are essential to enable a 
man adequately to fulfil the sacred duties of 
a clergyman. Such a proceeding cannot be 
too severely reprobated. 

The situation of women in general, from 
their physical weakness, as well as from 
some mental peculiarities, is in a consider- 
able degree a state of dependence during 
the whole of their lives. The condition of 
men is very different. Young men desire 
independence at an early period, and are 
generally impatient of restraint to an extent 
which is apt to indispose them to submit to 
the regulations of the family circle. It is 
not in general desirable that they should re- 
main members of their father's family much 
longer than the period when the law of the 
land makes them masters of their own ac- 
tions. If however they do continue in the 
family, they are bound to comply with such 
rules as their father may think proper to 
establish; while, on the other hand, the 
father should pay due regard to that natural 



38 FAMILY LIFE. 

feeling of independence which belongs to 
adult age. 

The differences which arise between pa- 
rents and their children are usually much 
fewer, and of a much less inveterate charac- 
ter, than those between step-fathers and step- 
mothers and the children of the former mar- 
riage. The situation of a step-mother in 
particular requires an exercise of temper and 
of judgement such as very few women 
possess. From the moment of her marriage 
she is likely to be, particularly where the 
children are beyond the age of childhood at 
the time of the second marriage, an object of 
dislike to them ; and too often relations and 
friends of the deceased mother and servants 
do their utmost to increase the hostile feel- 
ing. A union of firmness and forbearance 
is required on her part which it is very 
difficult indeed to practise. While she ought 
to insist on being treated by the children 
with the respect due to the wife of the father, 
she should never forget that she cannot 



FAMILY LIFE, 39 

adequately supply to them the place of their 
mother, and that she has no other claim to 
their affection than what is founded on her 
kindness and attention to them. 

Parents should endeavour to acquire the 
confidence and friendship of their children ; 
but this can only be done by allowing and 
encouraging them on all occasions freely to 
declare their sentiments, whether agreeable 
or contrary to those of the parent. There 
are indeed often subjects of the deepest in- 
terest which persons holding different opi- 
nions, and who are united in affection, 
whether as fathers and sons, or brothers, or 
friends, should carefully avoid. What these 
subjects are it must be left to the good sense 
and reflection of the parties to decide. In 
general it is incumbent on children not to 
put themselves forward unnecessarily in op- 
position to the opinions, or even to the 
prejudices of their parents. 

The duty of parents to provide for their 
children according to their means and op- 
portunities is so obvious, that no one pos- 



Hi) family life. 

sessing any religious or moral principles can 
be insensible of it, Observation of what is 
going on in the world around us, however, 
will soon convince us that the far greater 
number of parents have either never seri- 
ously considered the extent of this duty, or 
that they pay but little regard to it in prac- 
tice. How often do we see families brought 
up in the enjoyment of all the luxuries of 
life, and left at the death of the father with 
such a paltry provision as will scarcely sup- 
ply any of its conveniences, or sometimes, 
even its necessaries ! The injustice and 
cruelty of parents treating their children in 
this manner cannot be too strongly con- 
demned. Where the income of a family 
indeed mainly depends on the personal ex- 
ertions of the father, a great change must 
inevitably take place in the situation of the 
family at his death ; but the children should 
be early made acquainted with the true state 
of the case ; and the father should regulate 
his expenses with all practicable economy, 
and make the best provision for his chil- 



FAMILY LIFE. 41 

dren which the necessary and reasonable 
expenses of his station of life will allow. 
With respect to the distribution of the pa- 
rent's property among his children, every- 
thing depends on the extent of the pro- 
perty and the rank of the father. Where 
there is hereditary dignity, the eldest son 
has a strong claim for such a provision 
as will enable him to support his rank. 
In other cases, the making of an eldest 
son (as it is called) should depend on 
the nature and extent of the property. 
Whether a landed estate should be given to 
the eldest son or be sold for the benefit of 
all the family at the death of the father, is 
often a difficult question ; but in this, and 
in all other cases, the rule for the father is 
to have an equal regard to the happiness of 
all his children, and to distribute his pro- 
perty among them on that principle. The 
following observations of Paley on one part 
of this subject are truly excellent : — "On 
' account of the few lucrative employments 
" which are left to the female sex, and by 



42 FAMILY LIFE. 

' consequence the little opportunity they 
1 have of adding to their income, daughters 
' ought to be the particular objects of a 
' parent's care and foresight ; and as an 
' option of marriage, from which they can 
* reasonably expect happiness, is not pre- 
' sented to every woman who deserves it, 
1 especially in times in which a licentious 
' celibacy is in fashion with the men, a 
1 father should endeavour to enable his 
f daughters to lead a single life with in- 
' dependence and decorum, even though he 
' subtract more for that purpose from the 
' portions of his sons than is agreeable to 
' modern usage, or than they expect." In- 
deed the inadequate provisions often made 
by fathers for their daughters seems unac- 
countable. Daughters usually live much 
more with their parents than sons, and have 
generally stronger affection for them. The 
father too usually appears to love his 
daughters, at least as much as his sons ; yet 
in the distribution of property the daughters 
in general do not appear to have their fair 



FAMILY LIFE. 43 

share; nor can this be accounted for by 
their being settled in marriage, for the same 
thing happens as to single daughters. It is 
to be feared that the real reason is that 
daughters are expected to belong to other 
families, while the name and family of the 
father will be continued by the sons. 

Brothers and Sisters. — Brothers and 
sisters are, or should be, friends ready made ; 
and if they really esteem and love each 
other, their friendship is likely to be more 
lasting and more valuable than any other 
which can be formed in life. Considering 
that they are brought up together from their 
earliest years, instructed and directed in 
their conduct and pursuits by the same pa- 
rents ; that those who are pretty near each 
other in age follow the same studies and 
join in the same amusements; nothing more 
seems to be required to ensure their mu- 
tual affection than the kind superintendence 
of the parent, in checking in their com- 
mencement the disputes and quarrels which 



44 FAMILY LIFE. 

frequently arise among children, and which 
when carried to a certain extent strongly 
tend to estrange them from each other. 
And surely this superintending care is re- 
paid with usurious interest ; for what can 
be more delightful to the heart of affection- 
ate parents than to witness the attachment 
of their children to each other, formed un- 
der their hands, and growing with the child- 
ren's growth and strengthening with their 
strength ; and how must the parents rejoice 
in the delightful anticipation, that when they 
shall be gathered to their fathers, their chil- 
dren will continue to live with confidence 
and affection, a mutual support to each 
other in trying seasons of adversity, and 
rejoicing together when prosperity shines 
upon them ! 

Feelings of affection and friendship would 
much more frequently exist between bro- 
thers and sisters, if they would use the 
same self-restraint and forbearance to- 
wards each other which constantly regu- 
lates their intercourse with the rest of the 



FAMILY LIFE. 45 



world. The want of that deference for one 
another, that politeness which consists in 
the preference of others to ourselves in the 
ordinary intercourse of society, operates very 
powerfully and extensively in preventing the 
existence in families of that concord and 
those kindly feelings which ought always to 
prevail. Those who find themselves treated 
with kindness and attention by all except 
the members of their own families, naturally 
look to others as the companions and parti- 
cipators of their pleasures, and the deposita- 
ries of their confidence. The feeling of at- 
tachment between brothers and sisters is laid 
more early and more deeply than those friend- 
ships which are contracted with others. Still 
it is of the character of friendship. Now the 
assumption of superiority and authority by 
the elder over the younger brothers of a fami- 
ly is likely to prevent the formation of those 
habits of friendship between them which are 
so much to be desired. The younger ones 
will resent what is in fact an usurpation, and 
the elder feel dissatisfied and annoyed that 
their claims are not allowed. 



46 



FAMILY LIFE. 



Sisters, in general, love each other much 
more than brothers ; nor is it difficult to ac- 
count for this, for a much larger portion of 
their life is usually spent together. Boys are 
often sent to different schools, and if .they go 
to the same school are as likely to become 
estranged from as attached to each other at 
school ; and often they are separated at an 
early period of life, each being engaged in 
his own profession or business ; living with 
a particular class of persons, and acquiring 
their habits ; so that but little remains in 
common between them. The custom of all 
the family assembling together every year at 
Christmas, or at some other season of festi- 
vity, has a tendency to keep alive the family 
affection, and should not therefore be neg- 
lected. Sisters., on the other hand, are 
usually brought up together, and are the 
constant companions of each other, nor is 
there in general much to disturb their mu* 
tual kindly feelings. Superior attractions of 
beauty and accomplishments may indeed 
make one sister an object of envy to the 
others ; but those who are capable of such 



FAMILY LIFE. 47 

a contemptible feeling can scarcely be sus- 
ceptible of strong and generous feelings of 
attachment. Rivalry in love may some- 
times strongly tend to alienate the affections 
of sisters ; but this is only likely to take 
place where attentions of which one sister 
was the object have been understood by the 
other as intended for her ; or where the lover, 
having in the first instance been favorably 
impressed by one, afterwards finds greater 
attractions in the other ; and such cases do 
not perhaps very frequently arise. 

There is something peculiarly interesting 
in witnessing the affection which we some- 
times see between a brother and a sister. 
The different characters of the sexes, and 
their different positions in the world, must 
always, even in those cases where there can 
be no reference to a matrimonial union, give 
an interest to their feelings towards each 
other of quite a different nature from that 
which belongs to an affection between per- 
sons of the same sex. Woman always looks 
to man as her protector, and can repay him 



48 FAMILY LIFE* 

by a thousand acts of kindness and tender- 
ness to which the sensibility of her sex pre- 
disposes her. Men, who feel as they ought, 
consider every woman who stands in need 
of it entitled to their protection ; and of 
course the feeling is stronger when applied 
to those who by nature have claims upon 
them, and whom constant communication 
and habit have made objects of their parti- 
cular regard. The delightful union of affec- 
tion between brothers and sisters can hardly 
fail of being beneficial to each party. The 
sisters being introduced into the world at a 
period when the brothers are either com- 
pleting their education, or have their time 
fully occupied in preparing themselves for 
their respective callings, are made ac- 
quainted with the habits of society and the 
rules of propriety and politeness by which 
it is regulated at a much earlier age than 
their brothers, and can therefore be useful 
in correcting many anomalies in manners 
which young men are apt to fall into on en- 
tering into the world; while the brothers 



FAMILY LIFE. 49 

always can give the sisters valuable hints 
respecting their conduct in all matters re- 
specting the other sex. 

Masters and Servants. — This subject 
cannot be introduced in a better manner 
than by the following quotation from Pa- 
ley's 'Moral Philosophy:' — " A party of 
1 friends setting out together upon a jour- 
1 ney soon find it to be best for all sides, 
1 that, while they are upon the road, one 
' of the company should wait upon the 
' rest ; another ride forward to seek out 
1 lodging and entertainment ; a third carry 
' the portmanteau ; a fourth take charge 
' of the horses ; a fifth bear the purse, 
1 conduct and direct the route ; not forget- 
1 ting, however, that as they were equal and 
' independent when they set out, so they 
' are all to return to a level at the journey's 
' end. The same regard and respect ; the 
' same forbearance, lenity and reserve in 
' using their service ; the same mildness in 
' delivering commands ; the same study to 

D 



50 FAMILY LIFE. 

" make their journey comfortable and plea- 
" sant, which he whose lot it was to direct 
" the rest, would in common decency think 
" himself bound to observe towards them ; 
" ought we to show to those who, in the 
" casting of the parts of human society, 
" happen to be placed within our power, 
" or to depend upon us." 

Improvements in the arrangements and 
accommodations for travelling and travellers 
have been so great since the time when this 
passage was written, as to raise a smile on 
the countenance of the reader on perusing 
it. In the modern mode of travelling the 
purse-bearer of the party is the only one 
who has any peculiar burden cast upon him. 

The sentiments in the passage cited are 
truly excellent, and can never be lost sight 
of by any who entertain a just sense of the 
duty which they owe to those who occupy 
inferior and dependent situations. 

Nothing affords more occasion for the 
animadversion of the moralist than the ge- 
neral conduct of masters to their servants. 



FAMILY LIFE. 51 

Instead of a just sense of the relation in 
which we stand to them, and of those 
kind and considerate feelings which Paley 
describes as properly belonging to that rela- 
tion, it is to be feared that masters and mis- 
tresses too commonly consider their servants 
as an inferior class of beings " born for their 
use, and living but to oblige them." We 
who associate with masters are constantly in 
the habit of hearing of bad servants. Had 
our situation been such as to make us the 
companions of the latter, might we not have 
heard the like complaints of masters ? and 
would there be less reason for those com- 
plaints ? 

Haughtiness to servants seems to be more 
prevalent in England than in most other 
countries. Be that, however, as it may, we 
are certainly very blameable in this respect. 
Many masters and mistresses are in the 
constant habit of speaking to their domestics 
in a tone which seems intended to excite an 
humiliating sense of the inferiority of their 
condition. Servants are often expected to 

d 2 



52 FAMILY LIFE. 

do more than ordinary health and strength 
can accomplish. They are kept up late at 
night and obliged to rise early in the morn- 
ing. Little is thought by many masters and 
mistresses of keeping them waiting in cold 
and rainy weather much longer than the 
appointed time for their return from par- 
ties and places of public amusement. Little 
regard is paid to the feelings of domestics in 
the conversation which is carried on while 
they are in attendance, which not unfre- 
quently turns on the bad characters of ser- 
vants in general ; and is often interspersed 
with contemptuous remarks on the classes 
to which they or their near relations belong. 
The immeasurable superiority of ladies and 
gentlemen is constantly insisted on in the 
presence of servants, as if for the purpose of 
humiliating them. Their faults are some- 
times visited with unpardonable severity ; 
and when they leave a service, the charac- 
ter to which they are justly entitled is with- 
held, from pique or unreasonable resent- 
ment. Under such circumstances can it be 



FAMILY LIFE. 53 

expected that servants should feel any at- 
tachment to their masters ? Have they not 
like passions with ourselves ? " If you prick 
" them will they not bleed, if you poison 
" them will they not die, and if you wrong 
" them will they not revenge?" 

Turning from this disagreeable view of 
things, let us recognise the important truth 
that good masters and mistresses make good 
servants ; not always undoubtedly ; but cer- 
tainly this is the case in general. How 
many instances must every observing per- 
son have witnessed of the attachment of old 
and faithful domestics, who have passed a 
large portion of their lives in the service of 
the same families, and have acquired by 
degrees an interest in their welfare scarcely 
exceeded by that which is felt by the mem- 
bers of the families themselves ! 

Masters are bound carefully to abstain 
not only from terms of abuse, but from all 
passionate expressions to their servants. 
How can they expect propriety of con- 
duct and command of temper in those to 



54 FAMILY LIFE. 

whom they are continually giving examples 
of ill manners and ill temper ? Let every 
master consider the very great importance 
of example to servants. Confined to their 
domestic duties in a great degree, and habi- 
tually looking up to their master, they will 
naturally be greatly influenced by the ex- 
ample which his conduct affords them. Their 
situation precludes their seeing much of life 
beyond the domestic circle, and it is there, 
if anywhere, that they must acquire habits 
of virtuous conduct. Let the master consi- 
der what good qualities he desires to find in 
his servants, and endeavour to be himself 
an example of those qualities. 

Masters should take care not to throw 
temptation in the way of their servants. 
Carelessly to leave money about the house, 
or allow them access to wine which they are 
not permitted to drink, is certainly blame- 
able. 



SOCIAL LIFE. 55 



ESSAY II. 

SOCIAL LIFE. 

Conversation. — When we consider how 
large a portion of our lives is spent in con- 
versation ; how strong our desire is to com- 
municate our ideas to one another ; how great 
is the pleasure of such communication ; with 
what delight all (except those who hear wil- 
lingly the sound of no voices but their own) 
give their attention to the conversation of 
their associates ; how sweet is the sympathy 
enjoyed in conversing with those who agree 
with us in tastes, opinions and sentiments ; 
and that the pleasures of exercising our fa- 
culties in discussions and arguments with 
those who differ with us is often very great, 
it can hardly be denied that conversation is 
the greatest pleasure of life. No one can 



56 SOCIAL LIFE. 

indeed long be happy who is deprived of the 
power of communicating his ideas to others 
in conversation, and receiving theirs in re- 
turn. The solitary student, however deep- 
ly engaged in his studies, however appa- 
rently abstracted from the ordinary pursuits 
of life, looks with delight to the time when 
he is to impart the knowledge which he has 
acquired, the discoveries which he has 
made, or the mental creations which his 
imagination has suggested, to those who 
will feel an interest in his pursuits, and 
pleasure in his success. The heartiness and 
warmth of friendship, the deeply-seated af- 
fection of parents, the respectful feelings of 
filial duty, and the thrilling tenderness of 
love, burst forth spontaneously and irre- 
sistibly in terms suggested by those feelings, 
and addressed to the objects of them. The 
moralist whose mind carefully surveys the 
map of human nature, and from that sur- 
vey endeavours to deduce rules and princi- 
ples to direct his fellow men in the way in 
which they should go, longs for the faithful 



SOCIAL LIFE. 57 

friend to whom he may impart his senti- 
ments, by whose suggestions he may correct 
his errors, and by whose sympathy he may 
feel refreshed and invigorated for further in- 
vestigations in the ample and interesting 
field of moral truth. Even the deeply reli- 
gious man, who feels that this world, with 
all its interests, is scarcely worth a thought 
in any other relation than that of a prepa- 
ration for that eternal state to which we are 
all hastening, the great object of whose 
life is to know and to do the will of his 
Creator, even he feels the necessity of com- 
municating his thoughts to others, and 
finds his piety enlivened and improved by 
conversation with those of similar feelings 
and opinions. 

As conversation is a great source of plea- 
sure to all, so also is it of very great ad- 
vantage for the improvement of the intel- 
lect. " Whosoever (says Bacon # ) hath 
" his mind fraught with many thoughts, 
" his wits and understanding do clarify and 

* Essay on Friendship. 

D 5 



58 SOCIAL LIFE. 

" break up in the communicating and dis- 
" coursing with another: he tosseth his 
" thoughts more easily • he marshalleth them 
"more orderly; he seeth how they look 
" when they are turned into words ; finally, 
' ' he waxeth wiser than himself ; and that 
" more by an hour's discourse, than by a 
" day's meditation. — Neither is this second 
" fruit of friendship, in opening the under- 
" standing, restrained only to such friends 
" as are able to give a man counsel: they 
" indeed are best; but even, without that, 
" a man learneth of himself and bringeth his 
" own thoughts to light, and whetteth his 
" wits as against a stone, which of itself cuts 
" not." From one of the two greatest En- 
glish philosophers the mind easily turns to 
the other. Newton is reported to have said 
that he never conversed with any one from 
whom he did not derive some improve- 
ment. 

Such then being the inclination of all to 
engage in conversation ; such the delight 
they take in it ; so intimate its connexion 



SOCIAL LIFE. 59 

with all we love and all we venerate ; and 
so important its results, intellectual, moral 
and religious ; how desirable must it be 
that it should be conducted in the manner 
best calculated to gratify our desires, and to 
carry forward our improvement ! How it 
is usually managed we will proceed to con- 
sider. 

Conversation is a common property, in 
which all have a right to partake. Every 
one desires to talk as well as to hear, and 
all have a right to do so, though some have 
much higher claims to the attention of their 
hearers than others. A perpetual talker is 
therefore an usurper of the rights of others ; 
and as when a man unlawfully encloses part 
of a common whereon his neighbours have a 
right to depasture their cattle, they may 
lawfully knock down his fences, and lay 
that open which he had no right to enclose 
so it is lawful and right to put down a mo- 
nopolizing talker by any means in the power 
of the company. He is a public nuisance, 
and (in the language of the law) he ought to 



60 SOCIAL LIFE, 

be abated. Great talkers are always in- 
flated with vanity, for what else can make 
them aim at monopolizing all the talk to 
themselves ? and they are in general super- 
ficial thinkers and inaccurate reasoners. 
They abound far more in words than in 
thoughts ; and seldom give themselves the 
trouble to affix clear ideas to the terms they 
use. The pernicious habit of perpetual 
chattering is almost sure to bewilder the 
mind in undefined and unintelligible notions. 
He who sets himself up as the perpetual in- 
structor of all his acquaintance, must pro- 
duce something new from time to time ; 
but the novelty too often consists in old 
words used in new senses, or, more fre- 
quently, in no intelligible sense at all. Amid 
all the fallacies which beset the human mind 
in the search after truth, the far greater 
part is derived from the loose and inaccu- 
rate use of words, from which the great 
talker can only escape by special grace. 
Let a man be careful that every word he 
uses has a distinct meaning, and there will 



SOCIAL LIFE. 61 

be no fear of his annoying his companions 
by over-much talking. 

Another class of troublesome people in- 
fest society, who may be properly denomi- 
nated Dampers. The damper has as large 
a share of conceit as the monopolizer, but 
in the latter it is accompanied by vanity, 
while in the damper it is found in union 
with pride. The damper speaks but little, 
but his repose is like that of the tiger, the ob- 
ject of it being to enable him to pounce more 
fiercely on his prey. He is a " word-catcher 
that lives on syllables;" and thrice happy 
is he if he can detect you using an inaccu- 
rate expression, giving a wrong date to a 
fact, or expressing an opinion inconsistent 
with something you had said before. His 
memory is very retentive as to whatever has 
been said or done by any of his acquaint- 
ance, which there is a chance of turning to 
account at some future period, to make the 
speaker or doer appear inconsistent or ridi- 
culous. If you associate with him, keep a 
watch over your tongue lest any unguarded 



62 SOCIAL LIFE. 

or inconsiderate expression shouldbe brought 
in judgement against you at some future, 
and perhaps distant period. The damper is 
hardly a less nuisance in society than the 
monopolizer, and he is more odious. The 
conceit of both is alike contemptible, but 
vanity, which is the characteristic of the 
monopolizer, is often found in connexion 
with good humour and kindness, while pride, 
the damper's characteristic, is at all times 
and under all circumstances odious. Pride 
was not made for man ; and wherever it 
exists in a high degree, the case of the un- 
happy individual whose mind it possesses 
must be considered nearly hopeless. Even 
the bitter trial of adversity is hardly likely 
to effect a cure in the mind possessed by 
this vice. 

Another species of offenders against the 
rules of good conversation is the Dictator. 
The elements of the monopolizer are conceit 
and vanity, and those of the damper conceit 
and pride ; but the dictator's character is 
made up of these three constituents. He 



SOCIAL LIFE. 63 

unites the contempt of others felt by the 
damper with the desire of their applause 
which actuates the monopolizer. His coun- 
tenance is grave ; his enunciation slow and 
solemn • and he speaks " As who should 
say, I am Sir Oracle, and when 1 ope my 
lips let no dog bark !" Not unfrequently 
the characters of dictator and monopolizer 
are united in the same person. 

The best cure for all these vanities and 
follies is neglect. Let those who go into 
society to amuse and be amused, to instruct 
and be instructed, pursue the ordinary cur- 
rent of conversation regardless of the mono- 
polizer, the damper, and the dictator. If 
one man engross more of the talk than fairly 
belongs to him, no rule of good breeding 
obliges others to listen to him. If another 
is continually throwing out sarcastic obser- 
vations, the company may and ought to let 
them pass unnoticed. If a third on all oc- 
casions assume the air of an instructor, let 
him pursue his course ; don't argue with 
him, but go on quietly to express your own 



64 SOCIAL LIFE. 

sentiments without noticing any inconsis- 
tency between them and those of the dic- 
tator. 

It is an important rule for the regulation 
of conversation, not to introduce any subject 
which is likely to offend any person present. 
A great reserve is necessary on political sub- 
jects, and still greater on religion, except 
when all the company are known to be 
pretty nearly agreed as to their general 
views on those important matters, when 
discussions on minor points may be neither 
unseasonable nor disagreeable. 

It is difficult for those who know them- 
selves to be either decidedly superior or de- 
cidedly inferior in intelligence and acquire- 
ments to the rest of the company not to feel 
some degree of embarrassment. To an 
amiable and well-disciplined mind the for- 
mer is the more embarrassing situation of 
the two. He who feels himself inferior to 
those around him, though he may be hum- 
bled by that consideration, will still appre- 
ciate the advantage of being in the society 



SOCIAL LIFE. 65 

of those from whom he can derive informa- 
tion, and by whose conversation his mind 
will be instructed and improved. On the 
other hand, the man who is greatly superior 
to his associates, if possessed of kindly feel- 
ings, and a just sense of his own defects, 
will shrink from the character of the general 
instructor of the company. He will indeed 
endeavour to make his superiority to be as 
little felt as possible, and will contrive to 
turn the conversation on those topics on 
which some of his companions possess 
knowledge superior to his own ; but, in 
spite of all his efforts, he will still feel in no 
small degree embarrassed. 

The superiority of one man to another is, 
after all, not so great in general as is com- 
monly supposed. No reasonable person can 
doubt that men of great and surpassing 
genius appear from time to time in the 
world. To assume that Homer and Shak- 
speare, Aristotle and Bacon, Leonardo da 
Vinci and Handel owed their immense su- 
periority, not at all to native genius, but to 



66 SOCIAL LIFE. 

education and circumstances only, seems to 
be an opinion unsupported by the facts of 
their respective histories with which we are 
acquainted. But that the intellectual dif- 
ferences which are to be found among men 
are in general to be attributed chiefly to the 
circumstances in which they are placed and 
the instruction they have received, seems 
highly probable. Be that, however, as it 
may, we can seldom meet with two men to- 
gether, one of whom is superior in all par- 
ticulars in intelligence and knowledge to the 
other. Great superiority in one pursuit can 
hardly be attained without paying such a 
degree of attention to it as will not leave 
time to pursue other intellectual objects to 
the same extent as those have done who 
have directed their studies to many branches 
of knowledge without giving a very decided 
preference to any one. And perhaps these 
general men (if we may call them so) are 
those from whom we commonly derive the 
largest amount of pleasure and instruction 
in conversation. 



SOCIAL LIFE. 67 

We should endeavour in conversation to 
set every one as much at ease as possible. 
The old should encourage the young, the 
learned the unlearned, the bold the timid, 
and the man of high degree him of inferior 
station, to express their real sentiments. 
The peer should refrain from constantly re- 
minding us that he is a peer, the bishop that 
he is a bishop, the judge that he is a judge. 
Let parliamentary orators indulge their elo- 
quence in the houses of parliament, and 
demagogues at popular meetings ; but let 
them not put it forth in conversation, where 
it is peculiarly desirable that ideas should 
always be held more important than words. 

The great metropolis of the British em- 
pire contains probably a larger population 
than has ever been assembled in one place 
since the foundation of the world ; and cer- 
tainly its inhabitants, taken collectively, 
possess more talent and learning than can 
be found in any other place. Here then we 
might reasonably expect to find conversa- 
tion in the nearest approach to perfection 



68 SOCIAL LIFE. 

which it has ever reached. No one, how- 
ever, will assert that our social intercourse 
is not susceptible of great improvement. 
Indeed it is a pretty general complaint that 
we seldom enjoy the degree of pleasure or 
of instruction in conversation, in whatever 
circle we may happen to fall, in London 
which might (as it should seem) be expected 
from a consideration of the intellect, the 
talents and the acquirements of those with 
whom we associate. This disappointment 
may be imputed to several circumstances 
which have an unfavourable influence on 
society, and some of which will now be 
enumerated. 

In some circles, which are distinguished 
for good breeding, conversation becomes 
vapid and uninteresting from an over-re- 
finement of manners. It is carried on in a 
tone somewhat approaching to a whisper ; 
all topics are avoided which can possibly 
give offence to anyone ; nothing is discuss- 
ed, and no emotion is excited. Conver- 
sation flows on coldly and languidly, calm 



SOCIAL LIFE. 69 

and unruffled, dull and uninteresting ; often 
on the verge of stagnation, which it not un- 
frequently reaches. 

In more animated and more interesting 
society vanity is the great impediment to 
good conversation. All desire to talk, and 
few are willing to hear. Persons anxious to 
express their own sentiments often pay but 
little attention to those of others. A man's 
opinions may be unknown to those with 
whom he has associated familiarly for years, 
merely because they have never paid suffi- 
cient attention to his conversation to make 
themselves acquainted with his sentiments. 
Now it does seem strange that any intelli- 
gent and reflecting person should not desire 
to understand as much of human nature as 
his opportunities enable him to attain. Yet 
if this desire really exist, how can it so well 
be gratified as by attending to the disclosure 
of the sentiments of others in conversation ? 
But alas ! self idolatry is too strong to be 
controlled. Many seem to go into society 
for no other purpose but to show forth their 



70 SOCIAL LIFE. 

talents and acquirements, in order to excite 
the admiration of their auditors. One wears 
out your patience with narratives of adven- 
tures of which he is himself always the hero ; 
every event of his life has in his estimation 
something of the marvellous ; he is satisfied 
that " all the courses of his life do show he 
is not in the roll of common men ; " and can 
he do better than to make others acquainted 
with the marvellous occurrences which have 
marked his course ! Another, having few 
thoughts of his own, places his ambition in 
showing and setting forth his intimate ac- 
quaintance with those of other men, and over- 
whelms and suffocates you with quotations. 
Thus conversation, instead of being an inter- 
course and exchange of sentiments, is de- 
graded to a contest of vanity, a striving which 
shall be heard, and usually ends in the success 
of him who has the loudest voice and the 
largest share of self-conceit and assurance. 
Dr. Franklin informs us, that among the 
North American Indians, " to interrupt an- 
other, even in common conversation, is 



SOCIAL LIFE. 71 

reckoned highly indecent." Certainly those 
people, savages as we are apt to call them, 
might in this particular teach a valuable 
lesson to refined and learned England. The 
habit of interrupting others in the midst of 
what they are saying is so prevalent that 
the best bred persons are obliged either to 
resort to it occasionally, or to endure the 
penalty of perpetual silence. 

Conversation may be considered under 
three different heads : as a means of creating 
and improving the social affections ; as a 
source of recreation and pleasure ; and as 
affording means of instruction. 

Conversation is one of the principal means 
by which we become acquainted with the 
characters of those with whom we associate. 
We find among our companions some whose 
habits of thought and feeling are congenial 
with our own. This lays the foundation of 
friendship. The general feeling of those 
who are in the habit of frequently conver- 
sing with each other is that of kindness and 
regard. Conversation is then a school of 



72 SOCIAL LIFE. 

benevolence; drawing us out from mere 
selfish considerations, and exciting our 
kindly sympathy for others. But to effect 
this purpose everything irritating or unkind 
should be absolutely prohibited. Exposing 
the infirmities or deriding the follies of our 
companions is always unjustifiable. Every 
one is bound to abstain in conversation from 
whatever is calculated to give pain to any 
one present, except indeed in those cases 
where his duty requires him to introduce a 
subject which he knows will have that effect. 
This however but rarely happens in the ordi- 
nary intercourse of society. 

Considering conversation as a source of 
recreation and pleasure, we should endea- 
vour to make it as much as possible agree- 
able to all the company present. No rule 
is more frequently disregarded than this. 
The lawyer can scarcely lose sight of the 
king's bench and the assizes, nor the phy- 
sician of chronic diseases and atmospheric 
influence ; while the clergyman can with 
difficulty refrain from discussing fat rectories 



SOCIAL LIFE. 73 

and golden prebends. The lawyers have 
indeed an advantage over others, as a great 
deal of what occurs in courts of justice is of 
general interest ; and w T here they do not 
give an undue importance to the particular 
causes in which they have been engaged, for 
the purpose of glorifying themselves, and 
manage to control the flux of words with 
which they are for the most part encumbered, 
they are very agreeable companions. Men 
much addicted to literature are sometimes 
in the habit of disparaging all knowledge 
which is not acquired by reading, and of 
making books the only subject of their con- 
versation. This fault, however, is not so 
prevalent now as formerly, and has been 
in a considerable degree corrected by the 
habits of society, as persons of different 
pursuits and of different professions meet 
more frequently than was usual in former 
times. 

The acquisition of knowledge and the im- 
provement of the faculties are important 
results of conversation ; but it may well be 

E 



74 SOCIAL LIFE. 

doubted whether our existing social arrange- 
ments are calculated to effect these objects 
in the best manner. It has been often said 
that Englishmen can do nothing without a 
dinner ; and society seems to be more con- 
nected with this meal in England than in 
other countries. Now to say nothing of the 
talk of meats and drinks, of culinary my- 
steries and the exquisite flavour of wines, 
which is apt to encroach too much on topics 
deserving far more attention, the mere ar- 
rangement of a dinner party of fourteen, 
sixteen or more persons at a long table is 
very unfavourable to conversation. It can 
hardly be general among so many indivi- 
duals ; and unless they suffer the infliction 
of one of loud voice and fluent talk, who sets 
himself up as the instructor of the company, 
each individual must look for companion- 
ship almost exclusively to those who sit near 
him. However unsuited the persons who 
are placed next to each other may be in 
taste, acquirements and sentiments, they 
are tied together by an inevitable necessity 



SOCIAL LIFE. 75 

so long as the party remains in the dining- 
room ; while they may often see, in another 
part of the room, those with whom they are 
desirous of conversing. The introduction 
of round tables has somewhat improved the 
state of things at dinner-parties, by bringing 
the company nearer to each other. A dinner- 
party should not, for the enjoyment of gene- 
ral conversation, exceed eight. The lateness 
of the dinner-hour, which is now carried in 
fashionable society to an extreme, the ab- 
surdity of which is admitted by all rational 
people, though few seem inclined to exert 
themselves to alter it, very much limits the 
time which remains for conversation when 
the company changes the dining-room for 
the drawing-room. This is greatly to be 
regretted ; for in the latter, individuals, not 
being fixed in any particular place, natu- 
rally form themselves into groups with those 
with whom they wish to converse. This is 
generally the best part of a visit, intel- 
lectually and socially considered, but, in 
the present state of things, it is very short. 

e2 



76 SOCIAL LIFE. 

The evening parties, unconnected with din- 
ners, held in London, seem formed for any- 
thing in the world rather than for conver- 
sation. It does not appear that any one has 
yet been able to discover the purpose for 
which shoals assemble, at the time of night 
when sober people are going to bed, to in- 
hale corrupt air, and to run the risk of suf- 
focation in crowded saloons and drawing- 
rooms. Music and dancing seem the only 
amusements that can afford pleasure in such 
assemblies. But little can be said in favour 
of the soirees and conversaziones of the 
various scientific bodies of the metropolis. 
The assembling of a small number of indi- 
viduals in the evening for the purpose of 
enjoying each other's conversation, seems to 
be almost entirely disused. 

The clubs, perhaps, on the whole afford 
the best opportunities for conversation, as 
far, at least, as men only are concerned (for 
there the more amiable half of the species 
is excluded), and arrangements might be 
formed to improve them considerably in this 



SOCIAL LIFE. 77 

respect, by appropriating rooms particularly 
to conversation, while those who were dis- 
posed to read or write should betake them- 
selves to other apartments. 

It is not desirable that subjects demand- 
ing profound investigation should be intro- 
duced in general society ; but there appears 
to be no reason why a very limited number 
of persons might not occupy themselves 
agreeably and improvingly in the investi- 
gation of subjects of depth and abstruse- 
ness. They should not perhaps exceed five 
in number, and they should invariably re- 
frain from interrupting each other, except 
in the way of explanation ; and also from 
indulging in any thing approaching to dis- 
sertation or speech-making. 

Conversation, to be agreeable, should be 
free, and only restrained by propriety and 
good humour. Meetings of an expressly 
literary character seem generally to fail. 
People are usually more agreeable in casual 
meetings than in set society. It is the 
abundant opportunities of meeting casually 



78 SOCIAL LIFE. 

persons of talent and learning in all branches 
of knowledge, which is the great advantage 
of a residence in London. Scarcely a day 
need be passed by those who have any con- 
siderable portion of their time at their own 
command, without enjoying more or less of 
this privilege. 

Friendship. — Friendship is a want of 
human nature ; and he who has no friends 
can scarcely be happy, however desirable 
his situation, and however prosperous his 
circumstances in other respects. Parents, 
brothers and sisters, wives and children, are, 
as it were, parts of ourselves, and we are 
bound to them by ties which cannot be 
broken off, though they should be unworthy 
of our regard and affection. Disobedient 
and vicious children are to their parents 
like the poisoned garment of Nessus on the 
limbs of Hercules ; they cannot cast them 
off without at the same time tearing away 
their own flesh. But friendship is a volun- 
tary union of minds, founded usually on 



SOCIAL LIFE. 79 

similarity of taste and sentiment, but ce- 
mented by esteem, and entirely dependent 
for its permanence on the virtuous qualities 
of the parties between whom it subsists. A 
friend, standing apart from our family con- 
nexions, is, on that very account, in many 
cases the more fitted to be our adviser. 
" A man cannot speak to his son, but as a 
" father ; to his wife, but as a husband ; to 
" his enemy, but upon terms ; whereas a 
" friend may speak as the case requires, 
" and not as it sorteth with the person*." 

" Est autem amicitia," says Cicero, " ni- 
" hil aliud nisi omnium divinarum huma- 
" narumque rerum cum benevolentia et ca- 
" ritate summa consensio." If this be a 
true account of the matter, it may well be 
doubted whether real friendship ever existed 
in the wx>rld. There can, however, be no 
doubt that agreement in opinion and con- 
geniality of taste tend both to the formation 
and to the permanence of friendship. The 
latter seems to do so in a much higher de- 

* Bacon. 



80 SOCIAL LIFE. 

gree than the former. Difference of opinion, 
abstractedly indeed, appears neither to in- 
terfere with the existence or the continuance 
of friendship ; but where there is a serious 
difference in practical matters by which the 
friends are led to pursue objects in opposi- 
tion to each other, their friendship is likely to 
be weakened, and even destroyed. A mu- 
tual forbearance indeed may do much to 
preserve it. "I can live on terms of friend- 
" ship with Burke," said Johnson, "but I 
' ' cannot talk with him about the Rockingham 
" party." If however Johnson had been a 
member of the House of Commons, his 
friendship with Burke would not, in all pro- 
bability, have been proof against the shocks 
of their perpetual collision. Burke himself, 
we know, broke off his connexion with a far 
more amiable man than Johnson on account 
of their political differences ; nor could the 
advances of Fox, even when Burke was fast 
sinking to the grave, induce the latter to re- 
new their friendship. That true patriot 
and excellent man, Sir Samuel Romilly, de- 



SOCIAL LIFE. 81 

clares that he felt obliged to renounce the 
friendship of Perceval on account of the lat- 
ter pursuing measures which the former 
deemed injurious to the interests of the 
country, although he expresses at the same 
time sincere esteem and respect for the vir- 
tues of Perceval. This was perhaps a weak- 
ness ; but, if so, it was the weakness of a 
noble mind. 

Young persons are prone to form friend- 
ships, and not unfrequently far too hastily. 
A little caution on this head from those 
who have had a larger experience of the 
world will be useful. Yet, after all, the 
friendships formed in early life are in gene- 
ral the most close and lasting. One pre- 
caution cannot however be too deeply im- 
pressed on the young ; there can be no true 
friendship with the unprincipled and the vi- 
cious. " Virtus amicitiam et gignit et con- 
" tinet; nee sine virtute amicitia esse ullo 
" pacto potest *. Companions are necessary 
to the pleasures as well of the vicious as of 

* Cicero. 

E 5 



82 SOCIAL LIFE. 

the virtuous ; but mere companionship must 
not be confounded with friendship. 

Many writers on friendship are fond of 
representing it as existing between two in- 
dividuals only ; and indeed it has been as- 
serted that a man can have but one friend. 
Now this is giving a very false view of hu- 
man life. Most men have many friends ; 
and though sometimes one may be very 
decidedly preferred to all the rest, that is by 
no means universally the case. Friendship, 
in the very highest sense, that union of 
minds which binds the parties together in 
the same sentiments, leads them to pursue 
the same objects, and establishes unbounded 
confidence between them, is very rarely in- 
deed to be found ; and no one in the outset 
of life should indulge the expectation of being 
able to form such a connexion ; but those 
who will be satisfied with a lower degree of 
friendship can scarcely fail, if they be not 
wanting to themselves, to find, in the jour- 
ney of life, such as will be willingly asso- 
ciated with them in their pursuits and plea- 



SOCIAL LIFE. 83 

sures ; will feel a sincere interest in their 
happiness, and exert themselves to heighten 
their joys, and to alleviate their sorrows ; 
those to whom they " may impart griefs, 
" joys, fears, hopes, suspicions, counsels, 
" and whatsoever lieth upon the heart, to 
" oppress it, in a kind of civil shrift and 
" confession # ." 

The best safeguard of friendship is a union 
in the pursuit of laudable objects. Those 
who sincerely labour together in obedience 
to the will of God, and in humble hope of 
his divine assistance, for the good of their 
fellow-creatures, by alleviating their dis- 
tresses, by enlightening their minds, by lead- 
ing them on in the ways of intellectual and 
moral improvement, and by impressing them 
with a deep sense of the duties of religion, 
possess a cementing principle of friendship 

which will assuredlv never fail them. 

ti 

Recreations and Amusements. — In 
these matters people must of course choose 

* Bacon. 



84 SOCIAL LIFE. 

for themselves the kind of amusements and 
recreations which give them most pleasure 
and are best fitted to prepare them to return 
to their ordinary avocations with renewed 
vigour and alacrity. The general rule to 
abstain from all amusement of a decidedly 
immoral character will of course be adopted 
by all who intend to regulate their lives by 
religious and moral principles. There are 
however many amusements which , though not 
essentially immoral, must be admitted to be 
of a somewhat dangerous character. These 
may require some consideration. Card- 
playing is entirely prohibited by many per- 
sons of serious and religious character ; but 
their judgement seems more severe than the 
case requires or will justify. To spend much 
time in this amusement, and thereby to en- 
croach on the larger portions of our lives 
which should be devoted to intellectual and 
to useful objects, is certainly censurable ; but 
when a game at cards is played in the even- 
ing after a day rationally and usefully spent, 
or is resorted to as an amusement in age or 



SOCIAL LIFE. 85 

sickness, when the mind has in some measure 
lost its capacity for more important occupa- 
tions, it is not easy to see on what ground 
it can be condemned. Two things however 
are carefully to be avoided ; acquiring a 
taste for gambling, and injuring the temper ; 
both of which may result from card-playing. 
The pernicious character of gambling, and the 
misery it often inflicts on those who practise 
it and on their innocent families, are too 
generally known to require to be insisted 
on here. Severe laws have been passed for 
repressing this vice ; but here we may well 
exclaim, " Quid leges sine moribus vanse 
proficiunt ? " If indeed persons in influen- 
tial stations could be induced to form a re- 
solution never under any circumstances to 
play at games of chance for money, there 
would be a better prospect of a remedy for 
the evil of gambling than any legislation is 
likely to afford. The desire to take money 
from the pockets of our friends and acquaint- 
ance is very base and contemptible ; and a 
combination of persons of rank and fortune 



86 SOCIAL LIFE. 

to banish playing for money might in time 
fix the character of vulgarity on that practice 
which would probably tend powerfully to 
work a cure. If some Father Matthew in 
high life would originate this plan of total 
abstinence from playing for money he might 
prove a public benefactor. 

With respect to the other evil connected 
with playing cards, we may observe that some 
persons of irritable charanter cannot bear a 
succession of ill luck at games of chance with- 
out a serious injury to their tempers. Such 
persons should entirely abstain from play. 

Some worthy individuals object to theatri- 
cal performances altogether ; and certainly 
much may be said on their side of the ques- 
tion. Great indecency is often to be found 
in comedies, and much profaneness in some 
tragedies. There are a great many plays to 
which a religious man could not, consist- 
ently with his principles, take his children. 
It seems, however, going too far to prohibit 
theatrical entertainments altogether. Good 
and evil are so mixed in the world as to 



SOCIAL LIFE. 87 

render it impossible to separate them. Every 
time we go into society we run the risk of 
witnessing something which may be inju- 
rious to us. Many of our best tragedies 
abound with noble sentiments which are en- 
forced with increased effect by the drama- 
tic form in which they are given out, and 
much in our comedies tends to the correction 
of smaller vices and foibles, which might 
not be so easily amended in any other way. 
There seems to be no reason why we may 
not take the good and refuse the evil. An 
indiscriminate attendance on theatrical en- 
tertainments cannot be defended ; but, with 
due limitations, they may be made a part 
of our innocent amusements. 

The cultivation of a taste for the fine arts 
as a means of refining and elevating the mind 
is now pretty generally encouraged. On 
this head objections may be raised of the 
same nature as those which have been urged 
against the amusements of the theatre. In 
most galleries such pictures and statues are 
to be found as a moral and religious father 



88 SOCIAL LIFE. 

would be unwilling to allow his daughters 
to behold. Are we then to abstain alto- 
gether from visiting such galleries ?- Those 
who are for prohibiting theatrical perform- 
ances should in consistency say so ; and the 
argument would be conclusive if it were pos- 
sible to enjoy the innocent pleasures which 
works of art afford, and to derive from the 
study of them the refinement and elevation 
of sentiment which they are calculated to 
bestow without coming in contact with what 
is objectionable. This however cannot be 
done ; and here we must, as in the former 
case, do our best to enjoy the good and to 
reject the evil. 

Those recreations which lead us to take 
exercise in the open air are highly to be 
prized. 

Tours and Travelling. — The English 
are a people much given to wandering ; 
and a large proportion of those in the higher 
and the middle stations of life often indulge 
themselves with a tour in the summer or 



SOCIAL LIFE. 89 

autumn. Certainly their taste is to be com- 
mended ; for such tours, whether in our 
own or in foreign countries, may be turned 
to good account, both as to pleasure and 
improvement. The following observations 
will not apply to travelling in the correct 
sense of the term ; which implies a longer 
residence, and of course better opportunities 
of entering into the society and studying 
the characters of the inhabitants of the coun- 
try which the traveller visits than the tourist 
contemplates. 

The following hints may be thrown out 
for the consideration of those whose avoca- 
tions and inclinations permit and prompt 
them to give up a few weeks in the year to 
rambling through foreign countries or their 
own. 

Travelling is now so common and the 
means of acquiring the requisite information 
for the tourist respecting the countries which 
he intends to visit are in consequence be- 
come so ample, that no one need be in want 
of them. One of the most difficult matters 



90 SOCIAL LIFE. 

to decide upon is the choice of a companion. 
Families who are in the habit of living to- 
gether are in general the best travelling com- 
panions ; but even among them different in- 
dividuals will often have various pursuits and 
inclinations, which will lead them to draw 
different ways. With respect to other per- 
sons, it is a matter of very great difficulty to 
select a desirable travelling companion ; so 
much so indeed, that when the tourist is 
tolerably well acquainted with the language 
and habits of the people among whom he in- 
tends to travel, and where his intended tour 
is in one of the accustomed routes, so that 
he may be pretty sure of meeting with a con- 
stant succession of occasional companions, 
it will perhaps be in general best for him to 
travel alone. This however must of course 
depend in a great measure on the tastes and 
habits of the tourist. 

A great and common error in travelling 
is doing too much. By visiting too many 
places and by too minute investigation of the 
places which he does visit, the traveller often 



SOCIAL LIFE. 91 

subjects himself to great and unnecessary 
fatigue ; sees a great number of things which 
are scarcely worth seeing ; and pays far too 
small a share of attention to those which are 
most worthy of his regard. The first day or 
two spent in a town where there is a great 
deal to see, are generally far more toilsome 
than pleasurable. The real pleasure and 
improvement must await the time when, 
having made our general survey of the place, 
we have discovered what is most deserving 
our notice. But when this is done, not a 
few tourists find their allotted time exhaust- 
ed, and start for another place, where the 
same uninteresting course is to be pursued. 
The rational object in tours is to see what is 
best worth seeing ; the practice seems to be 
to omit nothing inserted in the guide-book, 
or which any other traveller has ever seen. 
Nowhere are troublesome companions more 
annoying than in travelling. Should such a 
one accompany you to a gallery of pictures, 
be assured that while your attention is fixed 



92 SOCIAL LIFE. 

on some noble specimen of art which ex- 
cites the deepest interest, he will be calling 
you off to some other picture which may 
not in your eyes possess half the merit of 
that from which you are torn away : if you 
are absorbed in that deep meditation with 
which a magnificent cathedral more than any 
other work of man impresses one, he arouses 
you from your trance to observe some mi- 
nute beauty in a carved stall or a painted 
window. Many seem to think that the de- 
light of travelling consists in perpetual mo- 
tion. Placed amid the noblest scenes of na- 
ture which fill and exalt the soul, they are 
never contented unless they are every minute 
changing their position and varying their 
prospects. What a blessing must a railway 
be to those lovers of perpetual change ! If 
then you look for pleasure in travelling, 
do your utmost to keep out of the way 
of annoying companions. Two associates 
however you should always take with you ; 
candour in judging of customs and habits 



SOCIAL LIFE. 93 

different from those of your own country, 
and good humour, which will enable you to 
bear with the annoyances which are sure 
more or less to beset every traveller. 



94 STUDIOUS LIFE. 



ESSAY III. 

STUDIOUS LIFE. 

Preliminary Considerations. — Some ex- 
planation of the title of this essay seems to 
be required. In its strictest sense it is ap- 
plied to those who engage in none of the 
active scenes of life, or if they do so at all, 
make them only their occasional occupa- 
tion, and devote their lives principally to 
the pursuit of literature or science. In a 
more enlarged sense it includes those who, 
though occupied in active pursuits, find 
time to devote a considerable portion of 
their lives to study. The number of the 
latter class is far larger than that of the 
former ; and they appear to be in general 
more useful and more happy. We must not 
however forget that in the former class are to 



STUDIOUS LIFE. 95 

be found the names of many of the greatest 
benefactors of the human race. A man 
should indeed consider deeply before he 
makes up his mind to adopt this mode of 
life. Three requisites seem essential; an 
ardent desire to acquire knowledge, habits 
of steady, regular, persevering industry, and 
some independent fortune. Locke has told 
us long ago that there are no gold mines in 
Parnassus ; and the book of human life does 
not contain many pages more dismal than 
those which comprise the history of such as 
have devoted themselves to literature as the 
means of gaining their living. Ev r en those 
who, possessing a competence, do not look to 
literature as a means of subsistence, should 
bear in mind that in embracing it as their 
principal pursuit they can entertain but slight 
hopes of attaining wealth and rank to which 
the successful prosecution of professions or 
of business often leads, and that the man of 
letters must, in most cases, be content to 
remain, as far as this world's goods are con- 
cerned, in an inferior situation to those who 



96 STUDIOUS LIFE. 

started in life with no better talents than his 
own. To a well-disciplined mind, indeed, to 
a soul intent on higher things, these are 
matters of comparatively small importance. 
Persons of this description may pursue their 
vocation and become the lights and guides of 
the world, if not in their own day, at least 
in future ages ; but let not the sordid wretch 
who makes his wealth his god, let not 
him who fawns on the wealthy and the 
great, and who pants to enjoy the distinc- 
tions of rank and wealth, devote himself to 
literature or science as his profession. Even 
combining, in any considerable degree, at- 
tention to scientific and literary with pro- 
fessional pursuits is likely to be very inju- 
rious to a man's success. If the lawyer or 
the physician make professional success his 
first object, his wisest course will be to con- 
fine his attention as much as possible to 
his profession, and to study only such sub- 
jects as are intimately connected with it ; 
or, at least, if he extend his researches fur- 
ther into the fields of science and literature, 



STUDIOUS LIFE. 97 

to keep it a profound secret till he has 
fully established himself in his profession. 
If he should say this is a sacrifice which I 
will not make for any professional advan- 
tages whatever, the answer is, your choice 
may be a very wise one, but you must be 
content to relinquish your chance of obtain- 
ing one of the higher prizes in your profes- 
sion, or, at least, very much to lessen it. 

Object of Study. — The intellectual ob- 
ject of study will alone be our subject in this 
place. The moral and religious ends to be 
attained by it will be considered in the last 
essay of this series. 

Many in the present day talk and write 
as if they considered the great object of our 
intellectual pursuits to be the advancement 
and increase of the accommodations, conve- 
niences and luxuries of life. That much 
which is highly valuable has been done by 
science in these particulars for the benefit of 
mankind cannot be doubted ; and the debt 
should be gratefully acknowledged ; but to 



98 STUDIOUS LIFE. 

reduce the advantages of literature and 
science to the standard of utility seems to 
be stopping far short of a just estimate of 
their value. Let us never forget that the 
human mind is formed for continual ad- 
vancement and improvement ; that in our 
progress larger and more important views 
are continually opening to us ; and that the 
sincere inquirer goes on in a constant suc- 
cession of eradicating prejudices and enjoy- 
ing clearer and more extensive manifesta- 
tions of truth. These are the noblest intel- 
lectual objects of study, to which mere utility 
ought always to be considered subordinate. 
As long as the intellectual faculties last 
the mind should be continually improving. 
No day should be allowed to pass away 
without something having been done to add 
to our knowledge, to correct our errors, and 
to enlarge our comprehension. It requires 
however no small share of steady resolution 
to adopt such a course of study as is best 
calculated to enable us to attain these ends. 
The field of science and literature is now so 



STUDIOUS LIFE. 99 

extended that the most determined intellec- 
tual energy and perseverance cannot do 
more than cultivate a small part of it. The 
knowledge of the most learned man is small 
compared with what remains unknown, Un- 
happily the fashion of the day is to affect to 
know something of everything; and con- 
sequently most people content themselves 
with such a slight and superficial knowledge 
of a variety of subjects as will enable them 
to take a part in general conversation, with- 
out entering deeply into any subject. This 
is obviously fatal to high intellectual im- 
provement. The first inquiries for him who 
desires to improve his intellect to the ut- 
most, are to what particular branches of 
knowledge to direct his attention, and 
what degree of relative importance to give 
to each. 

Course of Study. — The student having 
decided what branches of knowledge to cul- 
tivate, the next inquiry is, what is the 
plan of study to be pursued. It is not 

f2 



100 STUDIOUS LIFE. 

the object of this essay to enter at all into 
the subject of what is commonly understood 
by education. We are now inquiring what 
course of study should be adopted by those 
who have completed what is usually called 
their education. Education, indeed, in an 
important sense of the word, should be going 
on as long as the intellectual faculties last. 

In forming a resolution to devote one's 
attention particularly to any branch of lite- 
rature or science, it is an important step 
carefully to review all which we already 
know on the subject ; and it will often be 
desirable to make a written summary of the 
state of our knowledge. The nature of the 
study will, in many cases, pretty easily in- 
dicate the course which should be pursued; 
but this is by no means universally the case. 
When it does not appear to be very material 
what particular line of study is adopted, it 
will be best to begin with that part of the 
subject on which the student is most de- 
sirous of obtaining information. The know- 
ledge which is thus associated in the mind 






STUDIOUS LIFE. 101 

with our previous desire to possess it, sinks 
deeper and makes a more lasting impression 
than that which is acquired when the previous 
want of it has not been strongly felt. 

The pursuing of a particular course of 
study may be too lax or too strict. If we 
adhere so little to our plan as to allow our- 
selves to be diverted from it by every 
novelty which falls in our way, it becomes 
nearly useless, and can never lead to import- 
ant results. On the other hand, too strict 
an adherence to a predetermined course of 
study has many and great inconveniences. 
The different branches of learning are so 
mixed and entwined with one another, and 
one department of knowledge so often throws 
light upon another, as to render it impossible 
to pursue any one science abstractedly, and 
without reference to others which are con- 
nected with it. The question under what 
circumstances the student should depart 
from his intended course of study to pursue 
collateral inquiries connected with his main 
subject is often one of much difficulty ; and 



102 STUDIOUS LIFE. 

it must be left to the good sense and judge- 
ment of the individual to determine in each 
particular case. He should however be very 
careful not to yield to that restlessness of 
temper which is never contented without 
perpetual change and novelty; a state of 
mind absolutely fatal to great intellectual 
improvement. 

Our bountiful Creator has so formed our 
minds that we cannot pursue any intellectual 
object successfully unless we feel some de- 
gree of pleasure in the pursuit. It is in vain 
to attempt to counteract this law of our in- 
tellectual being. When therefore the stu- 
dent finds his application to his studies 
quite irksome, and unrelieved by any plea- 
surable feeling, it is time for him to shut his 
books. Let him then resort to amusement ; 
to gentle exercise in the open air ; and, above 
all, to cheerful society. If he be in earnest 
in his studies, these irksome periods will 
return with less and less frequency as his 
knowledge of his subject advances, and his 
taste for it increases. 



STUDIOUS LIFE. 103 

Arrangement of Time. — It is not so 
much by the number of hours spent in 
study that profound knowledge is acquired, 
as by the judicious arrangement of time 
for the different pursuits in which an in- 
dividual is engaged. Indeed it is a very 
common error to spend too much time in 
study. To continue poring over books when 
the mind is jaded and the spirits are ex- 
hausted, is injuring the body without any- 
thing like an equivalent benefit to the mind. 
The hours of the day should be so arranged, 
so far as circumstances will admit of it, that 
each period should have its allotted employ- 
ment ; and the arrangement should be ad- 
hered to with as little deviation as business, 
health, spirits and other necessary occupa- 
tions will permit. The number of hours 
which can be beneficially employed in study 
will be different in different individuals, ac- 
cording to the vigour of their constitutions, 
mental and corporeal ; but to avoid excess 
should be the rule to all. The healthy state 
of the mind itself, which enables it to view 



104 STUDIOUS LIFE. 

all subjects calmly, judiciously, and without 
strong prejudices (for the wisest man can 
hardly be without some degree of prejudice), 
is far more valuable than any extent of 
knowledge which the mind can attain by 
such forced exertions as are sure, more or 
less, to injure its tone. 

It is indeed a very inadequate view of the 
legitimate end and object of study to look 
to it only as the means of acquiring know- 
ledge. Another and a nobler end is the 
improving of the mind itself, the correction 
of errors, the subduing of prejudices, the 
formation of sound judgements, and of habits 
of correct reasoning. These excellences we 
sometimes find in a considerable degree in 
persons by no means distinguished for ex- 
tent of knowledge ; while, on the other hand, 
men of great learning are not unfrequently 
superficial thinkers, inaccurate reasoners, 
and altogether unfit for all the practical 
purposes of human life. The acquisition of 
knowledge and the improvement of the 
faculties should go on hand in hand. It is 



STUDIOUS LIFE. 105 

by their union that superior intellectual cha- 
racter is attained. 

Regard to Health. — This is a subject on 
which the ardent student is apt to stand 
much in need of warning. The mass of 
mankind must pass the far greater part of 
their lives in occupations which are not of 
an intellectual character. This has always 
been and probably always will be the condi- 
tion of a great majority of the human race. 
To a favoured few are given the means of 
extended mental improvement and enjoy- 
ment. They must however pay the price 
by some diminution of the strength and 
vigour of their bodies. It seems that either 
the body or the mind must, in some degree, 
be sacrificed to the other. But though the 
intellectual man must not expect the robust 
health and strength of him whose pursuits 
are of a character more favourable to the 
vigour and perfection of the bodily frame, 
yet may he, if he keep himself under pru- 
dent restraint, enjoy good health and long 

f 5 



106 STUDIOUS LIFE. 

life. Excess of study, we have already said, 
is to be avoided on account of its injurious 
effect on the mind ; and there can be no 
doubt that it injures the body in a greater 
degree. Pursuing our studies far into the 
night can hardly fail to be injurious. It is 
much better to rise early. Nature points 
out the night as the proper season of rest ; 
and we cannot in this or in anything else 
safely depart from what she directs. Many 
fall into great errors respecting exercise. 
Study tends much to weaken the body ; and 
to take strong exercise after several hours' 
application is far more likely to do harm than 
good. Gentle exercise, as walking or riding 
in the open air, is indeed highly beneficial ; 
but bodily fatigue after study should be 
carefully avoided. Walking, which is na- 
tural to man, is no doubt in general best ; 
but horse exercise is exceedingly valuable 
to many individuals ; and where persons 
who reside in London are so pressed by 
professional avocations or engagements of 
business as to allow a very little time to 



STUDIOUS LIFE. 107 

spare, riding on horseback has the double 
advantage of giving exercise without fa- 
tigue, and of enabling them more quickly 
to enjoy a purer air than the streets of 
London afford. To such persons a horse is 
often of more importance than the whole 
college of physicians. If the student find 
strong exercise necessary to his health, he 
should so arrange his time as to take 
it on those days when he has had but a 
moderate portion of intellectual exertion. 
The setting apart of a certain portion of 
the summer or autumn for recreation should 
never, if practicable, be omitted. 

Nothing is more injurious to health than 
anxiety of mind, to which the student, if he 
should become an author, is very likely to give 
way. Ambition of every kind is calculated 
to wear out both mind and body ; and pant- 
ing for literary distinction is not less so 
than other modifications of this disturbing 
passion. Before a man ventures to appear 
in print he should well consider how many 
circumstances may arise to prevent his wri- 



108 STUDIOUS LIFE. 

tings becoming popular in proportion to 
their merit. Every age has its particular 
taste in literature and science, both as to 
the subjects and the manner of treating 
them. The same branches of knowledge 
which are in high repute at one time are 
sometimes completely disregarded at an- 
other, and each age has its own peculiar 
taste in literary composition. If an author 
write on a subject which has ceased to be 
interesting to the reading public, or if his 
style and mode of treating it be unsuited to 
the taste of the times, his work will be neg- 
lected, however excellent. The desire of 
applause is, to say the least, a weakness, 
which a wise man will endeavour to restrain, 
and a good man can hardly entertain in any 
high degree. 

Cautions. — Great and numerous are the 
advantages enjoyed by those who devote a 
considerable part of their lives to the acqui- 
sition of knowledge and the improvement of 
their minds. The studious life however 






STUDIOUS LIFE. 109 

has its dangers and inconveniences, which it 
requires the most serious attention to avoid. 
We have already considered the injury to 
health and to the sound state of the mind 
likely to arise from intemperance in study. 
Those whose minds are greatly enlarged 
and improved are too apt to look with 
contempt on others who have either not 
had the same advantages as themselves, or 
have failed to improve them. Feelings of 
contempt should never be indulged except 
towards vice and folly. The man who looks 
down on another on account of his own 
intellectual superiority, even supposing his 
assumption to be well-founded, may be as 
inferior in moral excellence as he is superior 
in intellectual endowments to the object of 
his contempt. 

Persons of literary and scientific habits 
are apt to be unsocial, and to be deficient 
in affability and attention to those around 
them. The common amusements and the 
ordinary conversation of the world are to 
them " stale and unprofitable ; " and they 



110 STUDIOUS LIFE. 

are but too often pondering over the subjects 
to which their attention is chiefly devoted 
when they should be contributing their 
share to the instruction and amusement of 
the company. This is a great fault. High 
intellectual enjoyments, even to those most 
richly endowed by nature and most highly 
improved by study, are the portion of but 
a part, and that by no means the largest 
part, of human life. By the inevitable con- 
dition of man upon earth such happiness as 
he can enjoy is very much made up of small 
but frequently recurring pleasures. It may 
well be doubted whether the very highest 
mental delight will afford an adequate com- 
pensation for relinquishing the ordinary 
daily gratifications of life. At any rate, by 
secluding himself from society, or refraining 
from entering into its pleasures and amuse- 
ments, the studious man greatly limits his 
usefulness, and cuts off the main source of 
the social affections, without which human 
life is a desert, and intellectual enjoyments 
themselves soon lose their highest relish. 



STUDIOUS LIFE. Ill 

Another inconvenience arising from over- 
much study and too secluded a way of life 
is, that a man becomes thereby unfit to 
discharge many of his duties. We are 
all born members of society ; are all linked 
to those around us by ties which never can 
be broken ; and we are all bound to exert 
ourselves for the benefit of those with whom 
we are connected. But he who would be 
useful among men must be well acquainted 
with the manners and habits of those to 
whom he wishes to render any service. 
There are particular times and seasons, and 
suitable manners and modes of address, of 
which we ought to avail ourselves in our 
endeavours to serve our fellow- creatures. 
" A word spoken in season how good it is ! " 
By choosing an improper time, or making 
our advances in an unsuitable manner, we 
may defeat the very object in view, and 
only offend where we intended to be of ser- 
vice. If we wish to serve others, we should 
carefully nourish our sympathies towards 
them, avoid to the utmost of our power 



112 STUDIOUS LIFE. 

saying or doing anything to hurt their feel- 
ings or even to shock their prejudices ; we 
ought to endeavour to understand as di- 
stinctly as we can the state of their minds ; 
and, in our desire to do them good, to re- 
frain from giving them pain. 



ACTIVE LIFE. 1 13 



ESSAY IV. 

ACTIVE LIFE. 

But a small proportion of mankind de- 
vote themselves principally to science and 
literature ; the great mass are, and ought to 
be engaged in the active pursuits of life ; 
in political, professional or official employ- 
ments ; in agriculture, trade, commerce, or 
manufactures. All these pursuits require 
certain qualifications for success ; and all 
are exposed to peculiar temptations. 

Moralists are too apt to represent vir- 
tuous conduct as more favorable to a man's 
success in the world than it really is. 
" Honesty is the best policy.' , How often 
is this said ! but can it be truly said ? If 
by this maxim we are to understand that 
persons of the highest moral principle are 



114 ACTIVE LIFE. 

most likely to attain great success, nothing 
can be further from the truth. Juvenal's 
" probitas laudatur et alget" is nearer the 
truth ; which however lies between the two. 
Many of the virtues are very unfavourable 
to a man's succeeding in life ; the sincerity 
which scorns disguise, and never stoops to 
practise deception ; the sense of justice 
which obliges a man to do to others as 
he would wish them to do to him ; the 
high-minded independence which refuses 
to fawn on the rich and the powerful, to 
pander to their bad passions, or to for- 
ward their immoral designs; which scorns 
to flatter the prejudices of the multitude, to 
adopt the contemptible arts of the courtier, 
or to lend itself to a political faction • these 
and many other virtues, if they find a man 
" poor at first," are likely to " keep him so." 
Those who are entering on the world should 
be made to see these matters in the proper 
light. The question to them should be, 
" choose ye this day whom ye will serve." 
If you prefer to walk in the paths of virtue, 



ACTIVE LIFE. 115 

you must be content to relinquish many of 
the chances of attaining wealth, rank and 
fame which a worldly course of conduct 
would give you. Adopt this course if your 
chief object be to succeed in the world ; but 
then you must bid adieu to the peace of 
mind and the approving conscience which 
are the earthly rewards of virtue. 

But though integrity and many of the 
highest virtues are impediments to a man's 
obtaining those stations and distinctions 
which are generally the most coveted, they 
are undoubtedly favorable to that moderate 
degree of success with which a wise and 
good man may well be satisfied. Integrity 
and punctuality in all matters of business 
will acquire the confidence of all those with 
whom a man has any dealings ; and perse- 
vering industry will generally secure, in the 
end, a moderate share of success. 

Considering the many advantages which 
are obtained by conduct which a virtuous 
man will not resort to, it behoves him to 
be particularly careful not to be failing in 



116 ACTIVE LIFE. 

using those means of success which are 
consistent with his principles. These are 
chiefly industry, regularity, and a proper 
arrangement of his time. He must shrink 
from no labour which is necessary to make 
him master of his profession ; must be 
punctual in all matters of business ; and 
must so arrange his hours as to do every 
thing at the proper period. A great deal of 
time is often lost for want of appropriating 
particular seasons to particular purposes, 
and entering on business too early, or pro- 
tracting it too long. There should be order 
and arrangement in all a man has to do r 
and we should be very careful to do first 
that which most requires to be done. 

Ambition and inordinate love of gain are 
the besetting vices of men of business ; the 
former more particularly of those who move 
in the higher stations, the latter of all. 
The character of the age in which we are 
living is probably, on the whole, morally con- 
sidered, equal to that of any former period. 
Every age, however, has its peculiarities ; 



ACTIVE LIFE. 117 

and we are far from being free from those 
errors, follies and vices which usually belong 
to an advanced state of civilization and re- 
finement, and to what often accompanies it, 
a great accumulation of property in the 
hands of individuals. The faults of the age 
particularly alluded to, are a desire to live in 
a style of luxury and expense much beyond 
what prudence sanctions, and to vie with 
others of superior fortune. This feeling is 
unhappily nearly universal, and its effects 
are truly lamentable. Thus we continually 
see persons indulging themselves in every 
luxury till their means entirely fail, and 
poverty and almost beggary becomes their 
portion ; and many, with good incomes but 
small property, living without regard to 
economy, and, at their death, leaving their 
families unprovided for ; debts incurred 
to tradesmen by those who have no reason- 
able prospect of payment, and even some- 
times servants deprived of their wages by 
the extravagance and self-indulgence of their 
masters. It is obvious that such habits 



113 ACTIVE LIFE. 

must lead to an inordinate desire of gain, 
which is likely to make shipwreck of all 
honest and virtuous principle. In an age 
and country which abounds with the com- 
forts, conveniences and luxuries of life be- 
yond all former example, almost everybody 
is in want of money, because nearly all 
desire to live in a style above what they 
can afford. Of course, therefore, every one 
strives to the utmost to get as much money 
as possible. " I will tell you," said Mr. 
Windham, " an easy way to be rich ; only 
" be satisfied to live as your fathers did*." 
The almost universal desire to indulge in 
a luxurious and expensive style of living 
produces the most unhappy results on the 
character of the British nation, and par- 
ticularly on political and professional life. 
Nor is ambition less fatal to public virtue. 
There are two forms of ambition ; the one 
covets power, the other distinction. Often 
indeed both are united in the same indi- 

* I forget where I met with this remark, but I think 
it is in one of Windham's speeches. 



ACTIVE LIFE. 119 

* 

vidual. The love of power tempts the poli- 
tician to all the means of flattery and ser- 
vility which are likely to conciliate those 
from whom power is derived ; he becomes 
the accomplished courtier ; the cringing, 
bowing, supple, servile dependent of the 
" great man." 

But is the lover of distinction, he who 
lives on the breath of others, and ardently 
aspires to the character of possessing su- 
perior talents and intellectual accomplish- 
ments, better fitted to deserve the character 
of a patriot ? No ; this modification of am- 
bition is no better than the other. This 
man may become the hero of the hustings ; 
may largely influence and direct the current 
of popular feeling; may, perhaps, by his 
readiness in debate, his power of sarcasm 
and his eloquence hold a distinguished sta- 
tion in parliament ; but without far higher 
qualities than these he can neither become 
a patriot or a statesman. Those characters 
require a moral elevation above ambition. 
He who would serve his country as a public 



120 ACTIVE LIFE. 

man, must proceed in his steady course un- 
seduced by favor and undismayed by fear; 
equally remote from the fawning arts of the 
courtier, and from seeking the favor of 
the unreflecting multitude. He must be 
content to meet with neglect from those who 
should reward his exertions, and with mis- 
representation and reproach from the people 
whom he has endeavoured to serve. He 
must look with contempt on these things, 
and rest contented with having lived con- 
sistently with the moral dignity of his na- 
ture, and with the will of the Author of his 
being. 

Let not these observations be understood 
to condemn a man's exertions to obtain a 
fortune or to fill a superior station in the 
world, provided no moral principle be sacri- 
ficed. The wise statesman may lawfully 
aspire to be a minister, the learned divine 
a bishop, the able lawyer a judge. The 
desire to improve our condition is com- 
mon to all, and can be condemned by none : 
nor will anything short of the highest moral 



ACTIVE LIFE. 121 

elevation of mind enable a man to behold 
without some degree of dissatisfaction and un- 
easiness another stepping before him whose 
qualifications he knows to be very inferior 
to his own. It is not to be expected that 
any one will employ his faculties vigorously 
in the study of his profession without in- 
dulging the hope of success in it, and dis- 
appointed hope can hardly fail of being 
accompanied by regret. We are not for- 
bidden to desire worldly success, but it 
must not be our first object if we intend to 
" do our duty in that state of life in which 
" it has pleased God to call us." 

The legal and medical professions require 
the highest integrity in those who exercise 
them, to enable them to resist the tempta- 
tions by which they are beset. If a man 
purchase any commodity of a tradesman 
he can generally form some opinion of the 
value of the thing purchased ; but if he have 
occasion for the assistance of his physician or 
his apothecary, his counsel or his attorney, 
he must place himself entirely under their 



122 ACTIVE LIFE. 

direction, and rely altogether on their judge- 
ment and honesty. Now the interest of the 
medical man is to keep the patient in his 
hands as long as possible, and that of the 
lawyer to engage the client in litigation. 
The physician who never continues his visits 
to his patients longer than he conscientiously 
believes them to be necessary, and the law- 
yer who never advises his client to engage 
in a lawsuit but when he thinks there is a 
fair, reasonable hope of success, are hardly 
likely to enjoy the emoluments derived from 
professional practice to the same extent as 
others who are less scrupulous. The science 
of medicine is in a very imperfect state, and 
from its nature must probably continue so. 
The conscientious practitioner knows and 
acknowledges this ; and this very circum- 
stance often occasions his being put aside 
by the quack whose impudent pretensions 
are only exceeded by his ignorance. 

The barrister has many strong tempta- 
tions to swerve from the paths of rectitude. 
In his desire for business he is tempted to 



ACTIVE LIFE. 123 

make improper advances to those from 
whom his hriefs and cases are received, but 
who occupy a station in the profession in- 
ferior to his own. If he seek professional 
promotion, he is in danger of resorting to the 
mean and servile arts by which it is too 
frequently procured. In his practice in the 
courts he is bound always to behave re- 
spectfully to the judges, but never to yield 
a jot of his independence as an advocate. 
In his exertions for his client he is to be care- 
ful not to exceed those limits which moral 
duty prescribes. The reason why advocates 
are allowed to appear for their clients in 
courts of justice is, that both parties may 
come before the court with equal advan- 
tages, each bringing to the contest (as nearly 
as may be) an equal share of talent and 
learning. The advocate is therefore bound 
by the same moral rules as ought to regulate 
the conduct of the suitor who conducts his 
cause in person. Now it is quite clear that 
a man would not be justified in resorting to 
fraud or falsehood for the purpose of suc- 

g 2 



124 ACTIVE LIFEr 

ceeding in a lawsuit. The same moral rule 
would bind him here as in other cases. The 
advocate, then, as the representative of his 
client, is under the like obligation ; and if 
he falsely state any matter of law or of fact 
for the purpose of deceiving the judge or 
the jury, his conduct is wholly unjustifiable, 
and a violation of moral principle. This is 
the correct moral view of the subject ; yet 
it has been strangely asserted, that the duty 
of an advocate to his client is paramount to 
all other duties. 

There is a crying evil in the practice of 
the bar which is condemned by all respect- 
able persons (lawyers alone excepted) ; that 
of misrepresenting and brow-beating wit- 
nesses, which is carried by counsel to a 
shameful extent. A respectable person is 
called into the witness-box, and gives his 
evidence fairly. Having concluded his tes- 
timony in chief, he is then (pursuant to the 
ordinary and useful practice in our courts of 
justice) cross-examined by the counsel for 
the party opposed to him in whose favor 



ACTIVE LIFE. 125 

his evidence has been given. The legitimate 
object of this cross-examination is to elicit 
the truth by exposing any mistatement by 
the witness, and by correcting any mistake 
or error into which he may have fallen. In 
cases in which there is reason to believe that 
the witness has wilfully given false testi- 
mony, the opposing counsel is justified, and 
indeed called on, to use great severity in his 
cross-examination ; but where the witness 
has given his evidence fairly, he is undoubt- 
edly entitled to be treated with civility. 
What, then, is the case in practice ? Is a 
proper distinction always made by the cross- 
examining counsel between a witness whose 
testimony is fairly given, and one who shuf- 
fles and prevaricates ? Very remote indeed 
from this is the practice of many counsel, 
who treat every witness who has the mis- 
fortune to be examined by them (unless, in- 
deed, he happen to be possessed of rank or 
riches) in a manner most unjust in itself, 
and most disagreeable and irritating to the 
feelings of the witness. They usually begin 



126 ACTIVE LIFE. 

by grossly misrepresenting, in the way of 
insinuation, something which has fallen 
from the witness, and proceed in a style of 
rudeness and coarseness disgraceful to them- 
selves, and in no degree calculated to serve 
the cause of justice. It is no doubt the duty 
of the judges to correct this abomination, but 
considering how laborious are the functions 
of those eminent and respected individuals, 
and what unpleasant results are likely to 
arise from contests between the bench and 
the bar, it is not much to be wondered at 
that this most reprehensible practice still 
continues to be the disgrace of the English 
bar. 

Piety, purity of heart and life, a serious 
and constant study of the Holy Scriptures, 
with a sincere desire to ascertain their mean- 
ing, and to make the precepts of our Saviour 
and his apostles the rule of life, theological 
learning, and unremitting attention to the 
physical, moral and religious wants of his 
parishioners ought to lead to the advance- 
ment of a clergyman in the church ; but 



ACTIVE LIFE. 127 

considering that those who have ecclesiasti- 
cal preferments to dispose of are not exempt 
from the ordinary failings of human nature, 
one may suspect that persons possessing 
many of the qualifications above enume- 
rated may sometimes have a much larger 
share of the labours than of the dignities 
and emoluments of the clerical profession ; 
and that some who would have graced a 
mitre have never risen beyond the humble 
condition of curates. At any rate the clergy 
should bear in mind that their Master has 
told them that his kingdom is not of this 
world, and should never forget that no cha- 
racter can be more contemptible than that 
of a clergyman who makes seeking after 
preferment the great object of his life. 

Persons engaged in trade, manufactures, 
commerce and agriculture are not in gene- 
ral much exposed to the seductions of am- 
bition ; but with them the love of gain is 
apt to rise to an inordinate height. A taste 
for literature, science and art has a power- 
ful tendency to correct this evil disposition, 



128 ACTIVE LIFE. 

and should on that account, as well as for 
its intrinsic excellence, be encouraged by all 
those who feel an interest in the well-being 
of those large classes of the community. 
Much has been done in the present century 
in towns by the establishment of libraries, 
of literary and philosophical societies and 
mechanics' institutes to impart knowledge 
and to elevate and improve the minds of 
the inhabitants. Persons w 7 ho live in remote 
parts of the country, at a distance from 
towns, have not much opportunity of avail- 
ing themselves of these advantages. It is 
highly desirable that residents in the coun- 
try should be made acquainted with natural 
history, which their situation gives them 
good opportunities of studying. The late 
investigations and discoveries in chemistry 
which have been made in Germany and 
France are in the highest degree interesting 
to agriculturists, and should be studied and 
understood by all intelligent landowners and 
farmers. 

The largest, and therefore the most im- 



ACTIVE LIFE 129 

portant class of the community, consists of 
those who earn their livelihood by their bo- 
dily exertions, workmen, laborers and ser- 
vants, These can do little for themselves 
in the w T ay of mental improvement, or in 
pursuing those amusements and recreations 
which should lighten their labours and give 
them enjoyment ; and marvellously little 
have the rest of the community done for 
them. Of late a better spirit has arisen, 
and some pains have been taken to provide 
grounds in the neighbourhood of large towns 
for the recreation of the poor, and in other 
ways to minister to their pleasures. These 
efforts deserve the warmest encouragement 
of all whose hearts are capable of sympa- 
thising with that class of the community 
which is exposed to the largest portion of 
the evils of life, and has the fewest of its 
enjoyments. 



g o 



130 POLITICAL LIFE. 



ESSAY V. 

POLITICAL LIFE. 

A series of essays on the conduct of life 
would be incomplete were it not to com- 
prise our political relations, and the duties 
which result from them. This subject has 
indeed been incidentally touched upon in 
the last essay ; but something more remains 
to be said. It is hardly necessary to state 
that the following observations have not 
the slightest reference to the matters in 
dispute between the political parties of the 
day. 

Our political duties are derived from the 
relation in which we stand to each other as 
inhabitants of the same country, and enjoy- 
ing the protection of the same government. 
The notion that government is founded on a 



POLITICAL LIFE. 131 

social compact, by which a certain number 
of individuals agreed to give up a part of 
their natural freedom and to submit to such 
a dominion as they chose to establish for 
the benefit of the whole, though supported 
by many eminent individuals, and among 
them by the venerable name of Locke, seems 
now to have fallen into disrepute, and to be 
abandoned by the most sober thinkers and 
correct reasoners on political subjects. 

No creature comes into the world in a 
more weak and dependent state than man. 
We are said indeed to be " born free and 
equal." If we be born free, it is a great hap- 
piness that some tyrant is at hand ready to 
encroach upon our freedom, or we should 
none of us exist many hours. If we be 
born equal, one may fairly desire to be in- 
formed in what our equality consists. Not 
certainly in physical organization, for many 
are so infirm as to die very shortly after 
birth ; while others pass through their in- 
fancy without sickness, and the vital prin- 
ciple in some holds out a hundred years. 



132 POLITICAL LIFE. 

If mental equality be understood, we should 
be glad to be made acquainted with the 
proofs ; and. till we are better informed, 
must continue to think that little William 
Shakspeare and little Isaac Newton came 
into the world with mental capacities much 
beyond those which are ordinarily granted to 
man. If it be said that their intellectual 
superiority was the result of the peculiar 
circumstances of their lives, we desire to be 
made acquainted with those circumstances, 
and to be shown how they operated, as we 
are at present in a state of complete igno- 
rance on the subject. 

Let us, then, now consider what is the real 
condition of a human being in the world. 
At his birth he is entirely dependent on those 
around him for the supply of the food, cloth- 
ing and shelter which are necessary for the 
continuance of his existence ; and he is un- 
der the protection of the laws to secure him 
from any violence or injury. His obliga- 
tion to the government and the laws there- 
fore begins from the first moment of his 



POLITICAL LIFE. 133 

life, and it continues throughout the whole 
of it. But for the protection they afford 
him, the weak would be in constant danger 
of being oppressed by the strong ; and even 
the strongest of suffering injury from the 
combination of numbers, who, although each 
individually weaker, would in the aggregate 
prove more powerful than himself. Our first 
duty then is submission to the government 
of our country # . There seems in general 
no other limit to this obligation but that 
which is derived from the higher duty 
which we owe to God. If the state should 
require us to do what conscience forbids, 
and what we sincerely believe to be incon- 
sistent with our duty to our Maker, we are 
undoubtedly bound not to submit. In these 
cases however we should consider very se- 
riously before we come to a conclusion. It 
is not unusual for pride, vanity, prejudice 

* I say nothing here respecting the right of resist- 
ance to a tyrannical government, because I have on a 
former occasion given my sentiments on that question. 
See Essay on the Moral Nature of Man, p. 127. 



134 POLITICAL LIFE. 

and conceit to assume the character of con- 
science and to claim its privileges. 

As we are bound to yield obedience to 
the laws of our country, so are we, in gene- 
ral, to support the existing administration, 
as far as our consciences will allow us to do 
so. It can never indeed be our duty to give 
a sanction to such measures as we believe 
to be injurious to our country ; but it is in 
general wholly unjustifiable to oppose what 
we think beneficial because we disapprove 
of the genera] policy of those by whom it 
is brought forward. We say nothing here 
of a political party opposing the existing 
administration merely for the sake of turn- 
ing them out of office and supplying their 
places. Persons capable of acting so base 
a part are beyond the pale of moral con- 
siderations. 

Party spirit is the curse of all free coun- 
tries. The necessity of union to accom- 
plish political objects leads men to unite in 
parties. This is unavoidable ; but the re- 
sult is, unhappily, that political measures are 



POLITICAL LIFE. 135 

looked on not so much as they affect the 
public interests as with respect to their pro- 
bable effects on the situation and objects of 
the party. Self-interest mixes with patriot- 
ism and often overwhelms it. From the 
cold and comfortless seats of opposition the 
eyes are directed with all the ardour of de- 
sire to the treasury bench. These however 
are high matters, and rather beyond the 
scope of these essays. We proceed then to 
the political duties which belong to the com- 
mon walks of life. 

In this country the elective franchise is 
enjoyed by a large proportion of the com- 
munity. It is usually regarded as a valuable 
privilege ; but it seems to be sometimes 
forgotten that this privilege is essentially 
connected with an important public duty. 
The elective franchise is not to be exercised 
capriciously or for the advancement of the 
interest of the voter. It is in fact a trust 
which a man is bound to use for the be- 
nefit of his country by giving his suffrage 
to him whom he really believes to be the 



136 POLITICAL LIFE. 

candidate most likely to advance the public 
interest in parliament. It requires a calm 
and steady mind to guard a voter against 
all the arts of seduction which are practised 
to procure his vote. What is called can- 
vassing for a seat in parliament is, in the 
way in which it is often carried on, most 
degrading both to the candidate and to 
those whose vote he solicits. The former 
frequently assumes for a few days or weeks 
a character entirely different from his real 
one. He makes his approach to the voters 
with fawning servility ; submits to any rude- 
ness and impertinence which he may receive 
from them ; deals largely in promises and 
professions, which, however, he has skill 
enough to express in such general and inde- 
finite language as not to bind himself to any 
specific measure, and without scruple ac- 
commodates himself to the passions and 
prejudices of the constituency. These arts 
are indeed so gross that any person of com- 
mon sense might be expected to see through 
them ; yet such is the power of flattery over 



POLITICAL LIFE. 137 

the human heart, such is the delight of 
being treated with attention and respect by 
those who occupy a higher station in society 
than ourselves, that few are found able to re- 
sist them. 

A man of gentlemanly feeling and of vir- 
tuous principles will disdain such contempt- 
ible practices. If he aspire to a seat in 
parliament he will explain fully and unre- 
servedly to those whose votes he solicits, 
his opinions on all the leading political sub- 
jects of the day ; but he will neither forget 
what belongs to his station and character, 
nor condescend in any degree to flatter the 
passions and prejudices of the voters. He 
will approach freemen in the spirit of free- 
dom, bearing in mind that he is not solici- 
ting a favour, but presenting himself as a 
candidate for a seat in parliament, which the 
voters are bound in conscience to bestow on 
him whom they esteem best fitted, by his 
character and abilities, to perform the im- 
portant duties which devolve on a member 
of the House of Commons. 



138 POLITICAL LIFE. 

A man of sense and integrity, in giving 
his vote, will wholly disregard professions, 
and look exclusively to the character of the 
candidate. He will be much influenced by 
regard to private character; and will not 
expect that one who violates his duties in 
the common relations of life, will be likely to 
perform those he owes to the public honestly 
and efficiently. He will require that the 
candidate whom he supports shall be in in- 
dependent circumstances ; suspecting that a 
needy political adventurer will go into the 
House of Commons rather to sell himself 
than to serve his country. He will be on 
his guard against the exaggerated sugges- 
tions of faction ; and be slow to believe that 
one side of the house is all purity, and the 
other a mere mass of corruption. Lastly, 
he will repose a generous confidence in his 
representative ; not attempting to tie him 
down by promises and pledges to the details 
of his conduct in parliament, but having 
ascertained his general principles and senti- 
ments, he will leave him to act as the existing 



POLITICAL LIFE. 139 

circumstances may require, carefully watch- 
ing his conduct, and prepared to renew or 
withdraw his trust on a future occasion as 
he may deem his representative worthy of it 
or otherwise. 

Let no one consider the right to give a 
vote for the election of a member of the 
House of Commons a small matter. It 
depends entirely on the constituency whe- 
ther our political affairs shall be directed by 
wisdom or by folly ; whether the House of 
Commons shall consist of men well acquaint- 
ed with the constitution of their country and 
competently informed of the actual state of 
all classes of the community; of those whose 
minds have been formed by instruction and 
reflection, and who have duly and impar- 
tially weighed and considered the vast con- 
cerns of this mighty empire ; of those who 
are firmly resolved to do their duty fear- 
lessly and independently, without fawning 
on the court or flattering the people ; or of 
men who regard words more than things ; 
and prefer the arts of the orator and the de- 



140 POLITICAL LIFE. 

bater to the wisdom of the statesman. A pe- 
riod may arrive when the time of the House 
of Commons shall be occupied in intermi- 
nable debates, where the same arguments 
are repeated over and over again, instead of 
carrying forward the business of the coun- 
try ; well-turned sentences and sarcastic 
remarks may in time be preferred to the 
counsels of experience and the maxims of 
wisdom. Nor let us think, however well 
satisfied with our present condition, that 
the apprehension of political power being 
thrown into hands wholly incompetent to 
wield it is altogether chimerical. With 
what skill and talent were the affairs of the 
Romans conducted for a very long period ! 
How changed the state of affairs was in 
Cicero's time, the following passage will 
inform us # : — " Nunc plerique ad honores 
" adipiscendos, et ad rempublicam geren- 
" dam nudi veniunt, atque inermes ; nulla 
" cognitione rerum, nulla scientia ornati." 
Such was the state of things in his time, 

* De Oratore, lib. iii. s. 33. 



POLITICAL LIFE. 141 

and the destruction of Roman liberty speed- 
ily followed. Public virtue is indeed the 
only security for liberty ; and when the 
former expires the latter will not long sur- 
vive it. 



142 MORAL LIFE. 



ESSAY VI. 

MORAL LIFE. 

The character of the former essays being 
ethical, and the rules which have been pro- 
posed for the conduct of life having been 
mainly drawn from moral considerations, a 
separate essay on moral life may seem super- 
fluous, The author is not quite prepared to 
defend the title of the present essay ; but 
his apology for adding it is, that the subject 
on which he is about to enter is of great im- 
portance, and that it could not well have 
been brought forward in any of the prece- 
ding essays. 

We have hitherto chiefly treated of ac- 
tion ; we are now to regard the heart, from 
which all goodness springs. Many moral 
writers seem to consider morality as nothing 



MORAL LIFE. 143 

but a series of acts, and of habits resulting 
from a repetition of those acts, and which 
are valuable only on account of their con- 
sequences. Morality is with them a mere 
matter of calculation. On the selfish sy- 
stem # , the only end of moral conduct is our 
greatest happiness ; while more generous 
views of ethics allow the good of others to 
be an ultimate object. The latter opinion 
is to be greatly preferred to the former, but 
is still very defective, as it lays no stress on 
the excellence of moral dispositions in them- 
selves. The ancient philosophers, and par- 
ticularly the Stoics, carried their notions 
respecting the sufficiency of virtue for our 
happiness to an extravagant extent ; but 
perhaps the moderns have equally erred in 
keeping so much out of sight, as they have 
generally done, the state of mind, the dis- 

* I have been blamed for having applied (in a former 
work) the term selfish to this system. My answers are 
two : — 1. It has long been known by that name. 2. I see 
no impropriety in so designating a system which leaves 
no room for a regard to the good of others, except as it 
promotes our own happiness. 



144 MORAL LIFE. 

position, the internal sentiment of virtue ; 
while they looked only to its consequences 
in procuring external good either to the 
agent or to others. It has been found con- 
venient to use one general word to denote 
the sum total of all agreeable and pleasure- 
able sensations, feelings and sentiments ; and 
that word is happiness. The sum is made 
up of things without and things within us ; 
of favourable external circumstances, and of 
good dispositions. Of these the latter are 
undoubtedly greatly more important than 
the former. It has been well said*, that 
" the whole sagacity and ingenuity of the 
" world may be safely challenged to point 
" out a case in which virtuous dispositions, 
" habits and feelings are not conducive in 
" the highest degree to the happiness of 
" the individual; or to maintain that he is 
" not the happiest whose moral sentiments 
" and affections are such as to prevent the 
" possibility of the prospect of advantage 

* Mackintosh's Dissertation on the Progress of Ethical 
Philosophy, p. 177. 



MORAL LIFE. 145 

s< through unlawful means from presenting 
" itself to his mind." It is this supremacy 
of the moral principle which very few ethical 
writers have sufficiently enforced. Good as 
well as bad men are exposed to misery ; and 
it is mere moral -fanaticism to assert that a 
man, however virtuous, can be happy while 
suffering severe bodily pain, or deprived of 
the comforts and necessaries of life. But it 
may be truly said, that all good dispositions 
and sentiments are in general sources of 
continual satisfaction ; and that the delight 
they afford increases in proportion as the 
principle of virtue is more firmly fixed in 
the character, and more completely sepa- 
rated from all debasing connexion with vi- 
cious or with selfish feelings. To the really 
virtuous man vice and selfishness are actual 
misery. He who has duly cultivated the 
moral nature which God has given him is 
as incapable of injuring another, or of taking 
advantage of him in any of the transactions 
of life, as of tearing his own flesh, or of 
plunging his hand into boiling water. He 

H 



146 MORAL LIFE. 

will behold with detestation the flattery, 
falsehood and fraud by which men daily en- 
deavour to forward their interests in the 
world, and will prefer poverty and obscurity 
to wealth and honour obtained by base and 
contemptible conduct. Without being in- 
sensible to the advantages of wealth, he will 
only seek it by lawful means ; although de- 
sirous of possessing the esteem and respect 
of others, he will condescend to no fawning 
subserviency, to no flattery of their persons, 
to no concession to their prejudices, to no 
forwarding of their unjustifiable pursuits, in 
order to obtain it. It is nothing to him 
that fashion countenances, and almost uni- 
versal practice seems to justify what his 
conscience condemns. To her he looks as 
the supreme arbitress of his conduct, and 
abides by her decision, though all around 
condemn him. He persists through good 
report and through evil report in one unde- 
viating course of rectitude ; unseduced by 
the favour, and unawed by the frowns of 
the world. Others will probably enjoy more 



MORAL LIFE. 147 

worldly prosperity, obtain more wealth, rise 
to higher station, and attain greater repu- 
tation ; but he is content to obey his con- 
science, and to walk calmly in her ways. 
He may address her in the language of 
Cicero # , " Est autem unus dies, bene et 
" ex praeceptis tuis actus, peccanti immor- 
" talitati anteponendus. Cujus igitur po- 
" tius opibus utamur quam tuis? quae et 
" vitae tranquillitatem largita nobis es, et 
" terrorem mortis sustulisti." 

The living fountain of virtue is the human 
heart ; and our moral sentiments have begun 
to develop themselves long before the mind 
has formed the idea of what is called self-inter- 
est; that is, of that course of conduct which 
will secure to ourselves the largest portion 
of happiness, and which many moralists have 
strangely considered as the sole principle of 
virtuous conduct. To them the whole of 
virtue is matter of arithmetic, a mere cal- 
culation of profit and loss. Nothing is left 
to the free, spontaneous, generous movement 
* Tusc.Disp. lib. 5. 

h2 



148 MORAL LIFE. 

of human sympathies and sentiments ; but 
man is made as much as possible to resemble 
a calculating machine. Stripped of senti- 
ment and imagination, he retains nothing 
but cold reasoning to stimulate and to guide 
him. It seems strange that such views should 
not be dismissed at once by all who have 
made any progress in the study of human 
nature. Man is as essentially a moral as a 
rational being. He may act in direct con- 
tradiction both to his rational and to his mo- 
ral nature, just as he may lose his sight by a 
cataract or his taste bv a fever. The moral 
nature develops itself more speedily than 
the rational. A child sympathises with his 
brothers and sisters long before he has learn- 
ed to regulate his conduct in any degree 
by a regard to what will be most for his 
advantage in the whole of his life. 

All our moral sentiments, those which we 
look on with approbation, are good in them- 
selves always and at all times ; but they 
require to be guided and restrained by rea- 
son. Compassion is ever good, but reason 



MORAL LIFE. 149 

must tell us when it is to be allowed to 
guide our conduct. It would dispose us to 
relieve every beggar who solicits our charity ; 
but reason and observation inform us that in 
these cases the appearance of distress is often 
assumed to deceive the unwary, and that 
the indiscriminate relief of beggars tends to 
the encouragement of idleness and vice. We 
ought always to " love mercy ;" but it is often 
a question of some difficulty to decide to 
what offenders it may be extended. The 
jury who condemn and the judge who pu- 
nishes may feel pity for the offender, and a 
strong desire to save him from enduring the 
penalty of the law ; but they well know that 
mercy to the individual would be cruelty to 
the public, and that unless criminals are 
punished there will be no security for men's 
property, persons or lives. A parent should 
never cease to love his child ; but he should 
not allow the parental affection to withhold 
him from correcting him when necessary, or 
opposing his wishes when he has reason to 
think that compliance with them would be 



150 MORAL LIFE. 

injurious to him. In these, and a thousand 
other instances, the moral feelings are to be 
restrained, not extirpated. 

Let us, then, carefully nourish those sen- 
timents of virtue which the all-bountiful 
Creator has given us ; they are in themselves 
the sources of perennial delight ; they re- 
strain us from injuring others, and dispose 
us to do them good by every means in our 
power ; they elevate our minds above the low 
and sordid pursuits of the world, and enable 
us to stand aloof from the paltry contests of 
interest and ambition which agitate the mass 
of the community. These sentiments, duly 
cultivated, will do much to keep us steadfast 
in the way in which we should go ; but we 
stand in need of other helps than these ; and 
we will endeavour to show, in the next essay, 
that God has given them. 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 151 



ESSAY VII. 

RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

We have now arrived at the last stage of 
our progress, and are to turn our thoughts 
to that which every wise man, indeed every 
thinking man of ordinary understanding 
must consider incomparably the most im- 
portant of all subjects, — the relation in 
which we stand to our Maker, the duties 
which we owe to him, and the means in our 
power of seeking his favour and doing his 
holy will. Our relation to God begins with 
our existence, and will last through the ages 
of eternity. From him we derive our being, 
and all our powers and capacities of action 
and enjoyment. We are at all times in his 
hands, in health and in sickness, in pleasure 
and in pain, in life and in death. He has 



152 RELIGIOUS LIFE, 

given us a moral nature prompting us to good 
actions, and deeply sensible of the beauty 
and sublimity of virtue. We are formed 
capable of beholding with delight and admi- 
ration all that is great and good in our fel- 
low-creatures ; and we are led by reflecting 
on their excellences, to trace them to their 
source in the divine nature, and thus to ad- 
vance to the contemplation of the attributes 
of the perfectly wise and benevolent Creator, 
the fountain of all good, to whom his crea- 
tures owe their virtue and their happiness. 
To him who seriously and deeply reflects on 
moral and religious subjects, the sphere of 
thought and feeling is continually enlarging ; 
and he finds no object adequate to the aspi- 
rations of his soul but the Deity himself. 
Whatever he may behold which is great and 
sublime in human nature, his thoughts are 
carried on to something still greater, still 
more sublime, and he finds no resting-place 
but in God. The largeness and comprehen- 
sion of thought which leads to the formation 
of conceptions of the perfections of the Deity, 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 



153 



and by that contemplation still more increases 
and exalts itself, tends to banish all narrow 
views which would confine the favour of God 
to a particular nation, church or sect. He 
who believes and feels that God is the cre- 
ator of all, will not easily be made to think 
that his providence does not extend to all, 
or that he has not benevolent purposes to- 
wards all who, according to the light and 
intelligence they possess, and in obedience 
to conscience, make it the great purpose 
of their lives to obey his holy will. Nor 
will this firm confidence in the benevolence 
of God to all his creatures in any degree 
repress the deep heartfelt gratitude with 
which he will receive the volume of revealed 
truth ; diminish his sense of the inestimable 
blessings of the Christian religion ; or weaken 
the serious conviction of his soul, that it is 
his bounden and indispensable duty to regu- 
late his conduct by its precepts, and by the 
perfect example of him who " came to seek 
" and to save that which was lost." 

Some persons seem blessed by nature with 

h 5 



154 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

a happy moral constitution, a peculiar sus- 
ceptibility of virtuous feelings and senti- 
ments, and therefore to be prepared easily 
to form habits of virtuous conduct. They 
display in early childhood a sweetness of 
temper and a kindliness of disposition which 
are the germs of virtue. If they enjoy the 
advantage of good parents and instructors, 
and there be nothing particularly trying in 
the circumstances which surround them, 
such individuals may spend the whole of 
their lives, not indeed without some portion 
of human infirmity, but free from the com- 
mission of any great offence against the 
rules of morality, and even from any strong 
inclination to commit such violation. This 
is however the lot of but few. The mass 
of mankind, who neither enjoy the happy 
predisposition to virtue above-mentioned, 
nor pass through life without encountering 
strong temptations to transgress its rules, 
will find themselves in need of all the 
strength and support which religion can af- 
ford, to purify their morals, to extinguish 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 1 55 

their evil desires, to strengthen them to resist 
the seducing blandishments of vice, to secure 
them against the powerful suggestions of self- 
interest, and to fortify their minds against 
the dangers and perils to which a steady 
adherence to virtuous principle and con- 
duct may expose them. Could we fully 
realize the constant presence of the Deity 
as we do that of a man who exercises author- 
ity over us ; could we be truly sensible that 
he is always with us, and is fully acquainted 
with all our thoughts, words and actions, 
temptation would be annihilated ; for what 
is there which the world can bestow to be 
compared for a moment with the favor of 
God ; or what evil can man inflict which 
can be put in competition with the displea- 
sure of the Almighty ? As affording, then, 
the strongest motives to the practice of vir- 
tue, and such as are applicable to all times 
and to all the circumstances of life, religion 
is of the highest importance. 

If, however, we were to rest here, we 
should take a most inadequate view of the 



156 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

subject. Religion is not only the great safe- 
guard of all the virtues which we are bound 
to practise for the good of our fellow-crea- 
tures ; but she opens to us the far more im- 
portant relation in which we stand to our 
Maker, and inspires those sentiments of awe 
and love of the Deity, of confidence in him, 
and of resignation to his will which is the 
perfection of the human character. " The 
" perpetual exertion," says the most spiri- 
tual-minded of our moral writers, the pure 
and holy Hartley, " of a pleasing affection 
" towards a Being infinite in power, know- 
■• ledge and goodness, and who is also our 
" friend and father, cannot but enhance all 
" our joys and alleviate all our sorrows; 
" the sense of his presence and protection 
" will restrain all actions that are exces- 
" sive, irregular or hurtful ; support and 
" encourage us in all such as are of a con- 
" trary nature; and infuse such peace and 
" tranquillity of mind as will enable us to 
" see clearly and act uniformly. The per- 
" fection, therefore, of every part of our na- 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 157 

tures must depend upon the love of God 
and the constant comfortable sense of his 
presence. 

" With respect to benevolence or the love 
of our neighbour, it may be observed, that 
this can never be free from partiality and 
selfishness till we take our station in the 
divine nature, and view everything from 
thence, and in the relation which it bears 
to God. If the relation to ourselves be 
made the point of view, our prospect must 
be narrow, and the appearance of what we 
do see distorted. When we consider the 
scenes of folly, vanity and misery which 
must present themselves to our sight in 
this point ; when we are disappointed in 
the happiness of our friends, or feel the 
resentment of our enemies, our benevo- 
lence will begin to languish and our hearts 
to fail us ; we shall complain of the cor- 
ruption and wickedness of that world, 
which we have hitherto loved with a bene- 
volence merely human, and show by our 
complaints that we are still deeply tine- 



158 HELIGIOUS LIFE. 

" tured with the same corruption and wiek- 
<£ edness. Human benevolence, though siveet 
" in the mouth, is bitter in the belly ; and the 
" disappointments which it meets with are 
" sometimes apt to incline us to call the 
" divine goodness in question. But he who 
" is possessed of a full assurance of this, 
" who loves God with his whole powers, as 
" an inexhaustible source of love and bene- 
" ficence to all his creatures, at all times 
" and in all places, as much when he chas- 
" tises as when he rewards, will learn thereby 
" to love enemies as well as friends; the 
" sinful and miserable, as well as the holy 
" and happy ; to rejoice and give thanks 
" for every thing which he sees and feels, 
" however irreconcileable to his present sug- 
" gestions, and to labour as an instrument, 
" under God, for the promotion of virtue 
" and happiness. w T ith real courage and con- 
" stancy, knowing that his labour shall not be 
" in vain in the Lord." 

But in order to form a just estimate of 
the unspeakable importance of religion, let 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 159 

us turn our attention to the consideration 
of the wants and desires of human nature. 
A child is born in a condition as helpless 
as any of the inferior creation. An infant 
is to ail appearance a mere animal, and it is 
only by very slow degrees that his moral 
and intellectual faculties are unfolded. From 
an imperceptible beginning and by a slow 
progress, he at length may reach the heights 
of moral and intellectual excellence, and the 
puny babe shines out in time a Fenelon or 
a Newton. Every attainment, moral and 
intellectual, lays a foundation for further 
advances ; and there is no limit (so long as 
the faculties last) to intellectual and moral 
improvement. But here an inquiry of the 
deepest interest must suggest itself to every 
reflecting mind. Are the faculties of the 
mind, thus capable of indefinite improve- 
ment and advancement, and apparently cal- 
culated to embrace larger and nobler objects 
than this world can afford, to end at the 
hour of death? Are our lofty aspirations 
after a higher and happier state of being 



160 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

to be disappointed ? Are our intellectual 
powers, which seem capable of larger and 
juster apprehensions, to be confined to the 
narrow and confused knowledge of things, 
which is all that, in their best state, they 
can reach in this world ? Are the moral 
perceptions, by which we are linked to our 
fellow-creatures, and which enable us to 
form some faint conceptions of the per- 
fections of the Deity, to sink into anni- 
hilation when the vital spark is with- 
drawn from the material frame ? Or shall 
we indeed live in another world, and still 
pursue a career of moral and intellec- 
tual advancement ? And supposing these 
questions to be answered affirmatively , and 
the mind to attain a firm conviction of the 
reality of a future state, another inquiry 
still more important presents itself. Putting 
aside for the present revealed religion (for 
if that be admitted the whole mystery is 
solved) , conscience is the only guide of our 
conduct. Its authority is admitted by all; 
but who shall sav that he has at all times 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 161 

directed himself by its precepts ? Probably 
every man, and certainly the great mass of 
mankind, feel a humiliating conviction that 
they have in many things offended against 
the law of conscience. The matter, then, 
stands thus : God has given us conscience to 
be the guide of our actions, and we have neg~ 
lected to obey its dictates, and in many re- 
spects rebelled against its laws. If, then, we 
are to live again in another world, what will 
be the consequence of these transgressions ? 
Here reason seems to leave us entirely in 
the dark. No subject can be found con- 
cerning which a greater difference of opi- 
nion exists among thinking men than the 
arguments which reason, independently of 
revelation, supplies in favour of the im- 
mortality of the soul. The state of opi- 
nion in this matter may perhaps be cor- 
rectly summed up as follows : — To a few 
the arguments from reason for a future 
state seem clear and conclusive ; a far 
greater number consider them as amount- 
ing only to probability ; while not a few, 



162 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

and among them perhaps those who have 
thought most profoundly on the subject, 
find them to produce no conviction, but 
rest their expectations of a future existence 
solely on the authority of him who has 
" brought life and immortality to light." 
Assuming, however, the first class to be 
right, and the arguments for a future life 
deduced by reason to be conclusive, there 
seems to be no ground for coming to a con- 
clusion as to what the effect of our trans- 
gressions of the law of conscience will be 
on our future condition in the other world. 
All that we know is, that we are guilty crea- 
tures; and we are totally at a loss as to 
what degree of privation or punishment in 
a future state may be the result of our dis- 
obedience to the law of God in this world. 
The notion of retribution of some sort or 
other seems inseparable from our idea of a 
future existence. Some may consider it a 
positive reward and punishment in the ordi- 
nary sense of those terms, and others as the 
natural results of our actions ; but none can 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 163 

believe that in a future state the condition 
of him who has, as far as human infirmity 
will permit, lived in constant obedience to 
the will of God ; who has been animated by 
the spirit of piety towards his Maker, ex- 
tended his benevolence to all his fellow- 
creatures, and preserved himself pure and 
unspotted from the pollutions of the world, 
will be in no better condition than he who 
has, through the whole course of life, given 
himself up to selfishness and sensuality, and 
acted in contempt of all laws, human and 
divine. Corrupted as the moral perceptions 
of many have become by the practice of vice, 
and misled as many others have been by the 
debasing theories of ethics which have un- 
happily been prevalent in the world, the in- 
herent loveliness of virtue and the natural 
deformity of vice are felt and acknowledged 
by the general mind and feelings of human 
nature. The far greater part of mankind, 
however inconsistent in practice, feel and 
know that virtue is the perfection of our na- 
ture, the health and strength of the soul ; 



164 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

while vice, on the other hand, is its disease 
and deformity. But the wisest and the best 
must acknowledge that in many things we 
are all offenders against the law of rectitude, 
and must long for an assurance that their 
offences will be forgiven. Reason has no 
such assurance to give ; bat Christianity in- 
forms us that " God so loved the world, 
" that he gave his only begotten Son, that 
" whosoever believeth in him should not 
" perish, but have everlasting life." Here 
then we have rest for our souls. Christianity 
is a dispensation of mercy from the great 
Creator to his offending creatures. It pro- 
mises forgiveness on repentance, and en- 
courages the hope of future happiness by 
faith in Jesus Christ, and such obedience to 
the divine commandments as the imperfec- 
tion of our nature will permit. It does not, 
indeed, and no rational being could expect 
that it should, define what degree of trans- 
gressions of the divine law will be pardoned, 
but it encourages us to hope for pardon 
of all our sins on repentance ; and holds 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 165 

out to us every motive for obedience. In 
some parts of the New Testament we find 
the most vivid descriptions of the future 
punishment of the wicked in the world to 
come, expressed probably in figurative lan- 
guage, but in such terms as are calculated to 
alarm our fears to the utmost. In other 
parts of the sacred volume we are incited to 
the performance of our duty by promises of 
reward, which, though not put in any de- 
finite form, are of such a character as is 
calculated to encourage the obedient Chris- 
tian to perseverance in his duty amid the 
temptations of the world. Far more fre- 
quent than these appeals to our hopes and 
fears are the exhortations addressed to the 
nobler principles of our nature (which have 
no regard to self), to that reverence and 
love of God, and that acquiescence in all 
his dispensations which a just sense of his 
perfections is calculated to produce in minds 
constituted as ours are ; to the feelings of 
sympathy and benevolence by which we are 
linked to our fellow-creatures ; and to the 



165 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

sentiments of moral purity which are be- 
stowed upon us by the Great Being, from 
whom are derived both our moral nature 
and the sacred truths of revelation. Another 
virtue, humility, is repeatedly and earnestly 
insisted on ; but seems, unhappily, if we 
may judge by the practice of most churches 
and sects, to have been omitted in the cata- 
logue of Christian virtues by nearly univer- 
sal consent. 

Religion, then, being essential to the per- 
fection of human nature, harmonizing beau- 
tifully with the affections which unite us to 
our fellow-creatures, and with all which is 
pure, exalted and noble ; affording us sup- 
port and comfort in adversity, securing us 
against the snares of prosperity, and giving 
us strength to resist the temptations which 
surround us ; it might naturally be supposed 
that all who feel its importance would ear- 
nestly strive to improve every form and mo- 
dification of it in themselves and others ; 
and that, aware of the imperfections of their 
own knowledge even respecting the things 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 167 

of this world, which are the constant objects 
of their senses ; of their proneness to error 
on all subjects not capable of mathematical 
demonstration ; and of the obscurity which 
always attends the most distinct ideas which 
our limited faculties enable us to form of 
the Infinite Being, his attributes and his 
providence, they would hold their own opi- 
nions with humble diffidence, and use the 
utmost candour respecting those of others 
who differ with them. But, instead of this, 
what has been, and what is the conduct 
of the churches and sects into which the 
Christian world is divided ? Ecclesiastical 
history is a melancholy record of the folly, 
presumption and bigotry of man. Contro- 
versies on the most abstruse subjects, often 
beyond the reach of human faculties, and 
seldom having any connexion with the duties 
of life, have been carried on with the most 
bitter animosity ; and persecution, in all the 
varieties which perverted ingenuity has been 
able to suggest, and with cruelties which the 
mind shudders to think of, has been the ac- 



158 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

cursed means resorted to by weak, fallible 
and erring men to enforce the adoption of 
their opinions on others, who had the same 
right to judge for themselves as those by 
whom they have been persecuted. One 
church has set up the claim of infallibility ; 
and, with perfect consistency, treated all who 
have presumed to differ with her as heretics, 
and all who have quitted her communion as 
schismatics. The protestant churches have 
been obliged to claim the right of private 
judgement as the ground of their separation 
from the church of Rome ; but they have, 
with deplorable inconsistency, assumed pow- 
ers over the consciences of men, scarcely, if 
at all, less extensive than those claimed by 
the church of Rome. In the age and coun- 
try in which we live we find Catholics and 
Protestants, churchmen and dissenters mis- 
representing and vilifying each other to the 
outrage of candour and Christian charity. 
Instead of the charity which " thinketh no 
" evil,'' a large proportion of religious profes- 
sors of all sects and churches think nothing 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 169 

but evil of those who are of a different church 
or sect. Some exclude from the pale of sal- 
vation all who do not belong to their own 
church; and many, who cannot proceed to 
this extravagant length, do not fail to impute 
the supposed errors of every one who does 
not agree with them in opinion to weakness 
of understanding or to depravity of heart. 
Puffed up with a conviction of their own or- 
thodoxy, they look with contempt and abhor- 
rence on all who presume to swerve in any 
degree from their own supposed infallible 
standard of Christian truth. Assuming their 
own interpretation of the sacred volume to 
be undoubtedly true, however widely it may 
differ from that of others who have studied 
the Scriptures as carefully and as impartially 
as themselves, they feel no scruple in as- 
suming in favor of their own dogmas all the 
authority which belongs to the Scriptures ; 
and in condemning as enemies of God and 
contemners of his divine word all whose 
opinions and interpretations of Scripture are 
inconsistent with their own. 



170 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

To correct these extravagances of opinion 
and conduct, more just notions are required 
than are commonly entertained both of our 
own nature and of the Deity. Our ideas of 
God are necessarily formed from what we 
experience of human nature. A child ima- 
gines the Deity to be a man of great power 
living in heaven, which he supposes to be 
some place beyond the clouds, and exercising 
from time to time an unlimited authority 
over human affairs. This is and must be, 
as our minds are formed, the first concep- 
tions of the Divinity. The process of re- 
fining and improving these conceptions goes 
on gradually and slowly as our intellectual 
and moral faculties are developed; but as 
they are brought out more or less defectively, 
and never, even in the wisest and best, reach 
the perfection of which they appear to be 
capable, and which they will probably attain 
in another state of existence, our ideas of 
God continue more or less defective ; and 
we are apt to impute to him more or less of 
the imperfections of human nature. The 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 171 

peculiar principles, sentiments and feelings 
of every individual give a tinge to the con- 
ceptions which he forms of his Maker. The 
kind, the benevolent, the merciful realize in 
a higher degree than others can possibly do 
the goodness and mercy of God ; while those 
of a harsh and severe nature will not scruple 
to impute to him such conduct as would be 
justly abhorred in a human being. The hu- 
man mind cannot be better employed than 
in clearing its conceptions of Deity from 
whatever imputes to him, in his treatment 
of his creatures, the partiality and the capri- 
cious severity which are but too often wit- 
nessed in the conduct even of those men 
who have made the furthest advances in 
wisdom and virtue. We should never for- 
get that God is the Creator of the whole 
human race ; of the heathen and the Maho- 
metan as well as the Christian ; that he is 
" no respecter of persons," and that his 
"tender mercies are over all his works." 

But though it is incumbent on us to en- 
deavor to the best of our power to form 

i2 



172 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

exalted ideas of the Creator, we must never 
forget that all our conceptions are poor and 
inadequate, and that finite understandings 
can never comprehend infinity. Considering 
the inadequacy of our best conceptions of 
the Deity, we should hold our opinions with 
diffidence and humility, and never presume 
to judge and condemn those who differ with 
us in opinion. " Judge not, that ye be not 
" judged," is the command of our Saviour 
himself, to which every one of his disciples 
is bound to yield obedience. 

Nor let it be supposed that the remarks 
which have been made tend, in the slightest 
degree, to lead us to undervalue the im- 
portance of the Christian religion. If what 
has been already stated be true, that we 
have no assured hope of the forgiveness of 
our sins, and of attaining by faith and obe- 
dience a state of everlasting felicity in the 
world to come but by Christianity, it is plain 
that its importance cannot be overrated. 
But it does not follow, that because we con- 
sider the Christian religion to be of inesti- 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 173 

mable value, or because we think our own 
peculiar views of it to be of great importance, 
that we are to condemn those who cannot 
assent to the doctrines which we profess ; or 
even those who unhappily disbelieve revealed 
religion altogether. We should indeed rejoice 
in the privilege which we believe that God 
has given us ; our hearts should expand with 
gratitude and love for being admitted into 
the covenant of grace ; but with respect to 
those who are without, we should remember 
that charity " hopeth all things ; " and leave 
them to the uncovenanted mercies of Gocl, 
who best knows how to dispose of them here 
and hereafter. 

From the spirit of a very large portion of 
the writings of Christian divines, one would 
almost feel inclined to think that they de- 
sired to make the terms of salvation as nar- 
row as possible, and to keep out of its pale 
all who could not to the fullest extent con- 
cur in the sentiments of the church or sect 
to which the writers belong. It seems 
difficult to account for this. Perhaps the 



174 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

following is the most satisfactory solutid 
The divine authority of the Holy Scriptures 
being once admitted, it follows that we are 
obliged to submit to it as the rule of our 
faith ; and not to allow any preconceived 
opinions of our ow 7 n to prevent our admis- 
sion of the doctrines of the revealed w T ill of 
God. When then we think that we clearly 
understand the meaning of the Scriptures on 
any particular point, w T e are apt to infer that 
all other persons must arrive at the same 
conclusion as we have done as to the mean- 
ing of the sacred volume ; or have been pre- 
vented from doing so by some unpardonable 
prejudice, which we impute to conceit and 
an undue reliance on their own understand- 
ing. Nothing therefore is more common 
than for polemical writers to impute the er- 
rors, real or supposed, of those whose creed 
is more restricted than their own to the pride 
of human reason. The best-balanced minds 
may w T ell be on their guard against an 
overweening confidence in their own under- 
standings ; but those who impute a pride of 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 175 

intellect to others merely because they do 
not receive their own dogmas, seem by that 
circumstance to evince pretty clearly that 
they are themselves guilty of that very pride 
which is the object of their censure ; for 
how can we know that our interpretation of 
Scripture is the correct one, but by relying 
on the deductions of our own reason, " which 
" is indeed the only faculty we have where- 
" with to judge concerning anything, even 
" revelation it self # ?" Nor is it an answer to 
this to say that we do not rely on our own 
judgement, but rest on the authority of the 
church to which we belong ; for it is still an 
act of our own reason to decide to which of 
the christian churches which lay claim to 
be the faithful and accurate interpreters of 
Scripture we yield this obedience. 

It is indeed obvious, that no church which 
does not lay claim to infallibility can, with- 
out gross inconsistency, dictate to others 
what doctrines they are to receive as divine 
truth. The established churches of every 
* Bishop Butler. 



176 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

country, and the sects which dissent from 
the establishment, have an undoubted right 
to lay down what rules they think proper 
for those who belong to their particular 
church or sect ; nor can any one justly com- 
plain that they are not admitted if they re- 
fuse to comply with such rules ; but here, 
as in other matters, men are not at liberty 
to act capriciously, or with any but just and 
rational views. It is the bounden duty of 
all to consider what the Scriptures require, 
and to refrain from laying unnecessary re- 
straint on their Christian brethren. The go- 
spel was originally preached to the poor as 
well as to the rich ; to the ignorant as well as 
to the learned ; and it is a mission of peace 
and salvation extending to and equally con- 
cerning all classes of the community. Amid 
the din of controversy and the anathemas of 
bigotry, some have been found who have 
stood forward as the assertors of Christian 
liberty, and the promoters of the peace of 
the Christian world. Such were Chilling- 
worth, Jeremy Taylor, Locke and many other 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 177 

sincere Christians and able and honest men. 
Few have been more concerned in the settle- 
ment of church affairs than Lord Clarendon, 
who took a leading part in the restoration 
of the episcopal church of England, of which 
he has always been considered one of the 
main pillars. The following passage in his 
essay against multiplying controversies # , 
seems to show the state to which his mind 
was at length brought on the subject of 
the Christian religion, and his conviction 
that nothing beyond the plainest and sim- 
plest views of it ought to be insisted on. 
" There are two tables of the New as well 
" as of the Old Testament; the first con- 
" tains the body and substance of Christian 
" religion instituted by our Saviour himself, 
" and explained as much as was necessary 
" by his apostles, and comprehended in few, 
" and plain and easy words: ' This is the 
" work of God, that ye believe on him whom 
" he hath sent.' (John vi. 29.) ' If thou shalt 
" confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, 

* Miscellaneous Works, fol., p. 245. 

i 5 



178 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

" and shalt believe in thy heart that God 
" hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt 
; ' be saved.' (Rom. x. 9.) He that, heartily 
il believes the birth, passion, and resurrec- 
" tion of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, 
" hath embraced the whole body of Christian 
" religion. And if he observes the second 
" table, as he believes the first, his state of 
tf salvation can never be doubted by himself, 
" nor questioned by any body else." 

But a far higher authority than that of 
the eminent individuals already referred to 
may be adduced to show that plain, simple 
and intelligible doctrines are all which ought 
to be required of those who profess the 
Christian religion. The book of the Acts 
of the Apostles is the only authentic record 
in existence of the first planting of the 
Christian church. Christianity was not 
completed till the death of our Saviour. He 
and his disciples therefore always professed 
the Jewish religion, attended the worship of 
the temple and the synagogues, and did not 
in any way separate themselves from the 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 179 

great body of the Jewish nation. After the 
resurrection our Lord did not appear openly 
in the world, but showed himself several 
times to the Apostles, who were appointed 
to be the witnesses of his resurrection, and 
to others of his disciples. 

The epistles were addressed to different 
Christian churches, or, to speak more cor- 
rectly, to different portions of the one 
Christian church, and to individuals who 
had already embraced the Christian religion. 
To them therefore we cannot look to find 
the first promulgation of Christianity. The 
Revelation is of course out of the question. 
From the book of the Acts of the Apostles 
alone, then, can we derive our knowledge of 
the origin of the Christian church, and of 
the doctrines which the Apostles first taught. 

It is plain from numerous passages in the 
gospels that the Apostles entertained most 
erroneous ideas respecting the mission of 
Jesus Christ, and expected him to establish 
a temporal kingdom. Nor was this error 
eradicated by their knowledge of his resur- 



180 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

rection, as clearly appears by the question 
which they put to him, Acts i. 6, " Lord, 
" wilt thou at this time restore again the 
" kingdom to Israel?" It was not till the 
day of Pentecost that they were made fully 
to understand the wholly spiritual character 
of the religion which they were appointed to 
promulgate. From this period they began 
to teach Christianity, first to the Jews, and 
afterwards to the Gentiles. The book of 
Acts contains an account of the teaching 
of the Apostles and others ; and the same 
plain and simple doctrines are uniformly 
taught at all times and in all places. It 
will be sufficient here to give the following 
instances. 

Immediately after the Apostles and dis- 
ciples had received the miraculous gifts on 
the day of Pentecost, we find Saint Peter 
addressing the Jews in the following terms, 
Acts ii. 22-24. " Ye men of Israel, hear 
" these words: Jesus of Nazareth, a man 
" approved of God among you by mira- 
" cles and wonders and signs, which God 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 181 

" did by him in the midst of you, as ye 
" yourselves also know : him, being de- 
" livered by the determinate counsel and 
" foreknowledge of God, ye have taken, and 
" by wicked hands have crucified and slain : 
" whom God hath raised up, having loosed 
" the pains of death: because it was not 
" possible that he should be holden of it." 
And further, v. 32, 33, he says, " This Jesus 
" hath God raised up, whereof we are all 
" witnesses. Therefore being by the right 
1 ■ hand of God exalted, and having received 
" of the Father the promise of the Holy 
" Ghost, he hath shed forth this, which ye 
" now see and hear." And he adds, v. 36, 
' ' Therefore let all the house of Israel know 
" assuredly, that God hath made that same 
" Jesus whom ye have crucified, both Lord 
" and Christ :" v. 38, " Repent and be bap- 
" tized every one of you in the name of 
" Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, 
" and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy 
" Ghost." 

In the 3rd chapter of the book of Acts we 



182 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

have another discourse of St. Peter, from 
which the following are extracts: — v. 19. 
" Repent ye therefore, and be converted, 
" that your sins may be blotted out, when 
" the times of refreshing shall come from 
" the presence of the Lord." v. 26. " Unto 
" you God, having raised up his son Jesus, 
" sent him to bless you, in turning every 
" one of you from his iniquities." 

Acts iv. 12. Peter again, speaking of 
Jesus, says, " Neither is there salvation in 
' ' any other : for there is none other name 
" given among men, whereby we must be 
" saved." Again, the same Apostle says, 
chap. v. 30, 31, " The God of our fathers 
lc hath raised up Jesus whom ye slew and 
" hanged on a tree. Him hath God exalted 
" with his right hand to be a prince and a 
" saviour, for to give repentance to Israel, 
" and forgiveness of sins." 

In the 8th chapter we have an account of 
the conversion by Philip the Evangelist of a 
eunuch " of great authority under Candace 
" queen of the Ethiopians." On this person 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 183 

inquiring whether he might be baptized, 
Philip says, v. 37, "If thou believest with 
" all thine heart, thou mayest. And he an- 
" swered and said, I believe that Jesus Christ 
" is the Son of God." Philip then baptized 
him. 

St. Peter says to the centurion Cornelius, 
x. 36-43, " The word which God sent unto 
" the children of Israel, preaching peace by 
" Jesus Christ (he is Lord of all) ; that word, 
" I say, ye know, which was published 
" throughout all Judea, and began from 
" Galilee, after the baptism which John 
"preached; how God anointed Jesus of 
" Nazareth with the Holy Ghost and with 
" power: who went about doing good, and 
" healing all that were oppressed of the de- 
" vil ; for God was with him. And we are 
" witnesses of all things which he did both 
" in the land of the Jews and in Jerusalem ; 
"• whom they slew and hanged on a tree: 
" him God raised up the third day, and 
" showed him openly ; not to all the people, 
" but unto witnesses chosen before of God, 



184 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

" even to us, who did eat and drink with 
" him after he rose from the dead. And he 
c< commanded us to preach unto the people, 
" and to testify that it is he which was or- 
" dained of God to be the judge of quick 
" and dead. To him give all the prophets 
" witness, that through his name whosoever 
" believeth in him shall receive remission 
" of sins." After this the Holy Ghost fell 
upon them ; and Peter, v. 48, " commanded 
" them to be baptized in the name of the 
" Lord." 

In the 13th chapter, St. Paul, speaking 
of Jesus, says, v. 38, 39, " Be it known un- 
" to you therefore, men and brethren, that 
' through this man is preached unto you 
" the forgiveness of sins: and by him all 
' { that believe are justified from all things, 
" from which ye could not be justified by 
" the law of Moses." 

In the 16th chapter the keeper of a pri- 
son, in which Paul and Silas had been con- 
fined, inquires, v. 30, 31, " Sirs, what must 
" I do to be saved ? And they said, believe 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 185 

" on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt 
" be saved and thy house." 

In chapter 17, St. Paul preaches the go- 
spel at Thessalonica, v. 3, " Opening aud 
" alleging, that Christ must needs have 
" suffered, and risen again from the dead ; 
" and that this Jesus, whom I preach unto 
" you, is Christ." And in the 30th and 
31st verses, the same Apostle, preaching at 
Athens, says, '■' And the times of this igno- 
" ranee God winked at ; but now command- 
" eth all men everywhere to repent : because 
" he hath appointed a day, in the which he 
" will judge the world in righteousness by 
" that man whom he hath ordained ; whereof 
" he hath given assurance unto all men, in 
" that he hath raised him from the dead." 

xix. 4, 5. " Then said Paul, John verily 
" baptized with the baptism of repentance, 
" saying unto the people, that they should 
" believe on him which should come after 
" him ; that is, on Christ Jesus. When they 
" heard this, they were baptized in the name 
" of the Lord Jesus." 



186 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

xx. 20, 21. St. Paul, speaking to the 
elders of the Ephesian church, says, '* I 
" kept back nothing that was profitable unto 
" you, but have showed you, and have taught 
" you publicly, and from house to house, 
" testifying both to the Jews and also to 
" the Greeks, repentance towards God, and 
" faith towards our Lord Jesus Christ. " 
28, " Take heed therefore unto yourselves, 
" and to all the flock, over the which the 
" Holy Ghost hath made you overseers, to 
" feed the church of God*, which he hath 
61 purchased with his own blood." 

Surely the accounts thus given of the first 
preaching of Christianity are deserving of 
the most serious attention of all who call 
themselves Christians. The views which 
they display of the Christian religion are 
clear and simple, such as no person of ordi- 
nary intelligence could find any difficulty in 

* It may be proper to remark here that the true read- 
ing of this text is very doubtful. Griesbach, in his edi- 
tion of the Greek Testament, adopts the reading Kvplov, 
the Lord, instead of Qeov, God ; and gives his reasons in 
a very learned and able note. 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 187 

understanding. If, then, the Apostles and 
other early teachers of Christianity preached 
it in this plain and simple form, what right 
can any individual or any church pretend to 
have to add other doctrines, and to insist on 
an adherence to them as the conditions by 
which men are made partakers of the beneiits 
of Christianity ? Is it not an awful thing to 
behold men, who do not even pretend to in- 
fallibility, adding to the essentials laid down 
by the Apostles and first teachers of the 
Christian religion ? 

It may, indeed, be said that in the second 
chapter of the book of Acts St. Luke adds 
the following words at the end of his account 
of St. Peter's address to the people, v. 40 : 
• ' And with many other words did he testify 
" and exhort, saying, save yourselves from 
" this untoward generation." No objection, 
however, of the least weight can arise from 
these words against what has been already 
stated respecting the simplicity of the doc- 
trine taught by the Apostle. It is impos- 
sible to imagine that the Evangelist Luke 



188 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

should intend by the " many other words" 
mentioned in the text to refer to other im- 
portant doctrines which he had not speci- 
fically mentioned. Can it for a moment be 
supposed that he did not enumerate the 
essential doctrines of the Christian religion 
in his history of its early promulgation ; and 
that something beyond the doctrines speci- 
fically stated by Luke was taught by Peter as 
essential to Christianity ? The supposition is 
extravagant, and may be fairly pronounced 
morally impossible. Indeed the context 
seems clearly to show that the " many 
" other words" were practical exhortations 
to " save themselves from that untoward 
" generation." 

It seems, then, quite clear from the book 
of Acts that the essentials of Christianity are 
plain and simple; and that it is "no cun- 
" ning thing to be a Christian." But it by 
no means follows that other matters of great 
importance are not to be found in the Holy 
Scriptures ; and that it is not the indispen- 
sable duty of all, according to their ability 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 189 

and opportunities, to study the sacred wri- 
tings, and to use their best endeavours to 
understand their real meaning. No man 
however can be justified in requiring more 
from another to constitute him a Christian 
than the plain doctrines which are laid 
down by the first teachers of our holy reli- 
gion. All beyond this is matter of opinion. 
Many of these opinions have been unwar- 
rantably set forth as essentials of the Chris- 
tian religion ; the opprobrious name of here- 
tic has been applied to those who disbelieve 
them ; and they have sometimes been de- 
nied the name of Christians. All this is 
however comparatively of small importance ; 
but the spirit of persecution has been aroused 
in support of the dogmas of fallible men. 
Confiscation of property, imprisonment, tor- 
tures and death in the most frightful forms 
have been the portion of many, whose only 
fault was following the dictates of consci- 
ence and professing openly what they sin- 
cerely believed to be Christian truth. To 
err in the faith has often been treated by 



190 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

those who have still dared to call themselves 
Christians as worse than the commission of 
the greatest sins. Instead of obeying the 
Christian precept of judging of the tree from 
the fruit, a maxim exactly the reverse has 
been adopted, and even the apparently vir- 
tuous actions of heretics have been deemed 
so contaminated by their want of faith as to 
be in fact of the nature of sin. 

The disputes which have arisen among 
Christians respecting forms of church-go- 
vernment and discipline have been pursued 
with equal animosity, and have often called 
forth some of the worst passions of the hu- 
man heart in their most intense and invete- 
rate form. Episcopalians, Presbyterians and 
Congregationalists have alike swerved from 
the principles of religious liberty on which 
protestantism is founded, and by which alone 
it can be defended. The fierce partizans on 
all sides have kept down any tendency to 
doubt of the correctness of their own opi- 
nions by feelings of contempt and abhorrence 
of their opponents. The church of Rome 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 191 

justly considers these disputes among pro- 
testants as her gain ; and, regarding all the 
combatants as alike heretics and schismatics, 
looks forward with delightful anticipation to 
the period when all the Christian world shall 
again be united under the supreme pastor and 
head of the church. 

"Why are these things brought forward in 
this place? It is because they are directly 
opposed to the spirit of Christianity ; and 
till better feelings and principles shall be 
called into action among Christians, their 
holy religion can never effect to its full ex- 
tent its great object of reforming the world 
and preparing the human race for a state of 
happiness in the world to come. 

The Christian religion was promulgated 
more than eighteen centuries ago ; and it 
has long been and still is the professed reli- 
gion of the most intellectual and the best-in- 
structed portion of the human race. During 
all the long period which has elapsed since 
its promulgation, and in all the variety of 
forms which it has assumed, it has never 



192 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

produced that improvement in the charac- 
ters of men, that state of virtue and happi- 
ness in the world which its precepts are 
admirably fitted to effect. We have the au- 
thority of the Saviour himself for saying that 
the love of God and the love of man are the 
first and second commandments of the Chris- 
tian religion. Personal purity, temperance 
and humility are also repeatedly and strongly 
commanded and enforced in the sacred wri- 
tings. Were piety and benevolence, purity, 
temperance and humility to become uni- 
versal in the world, a complete revolution 
in human affairs would be the consequence. 
The far greater part of the pains, mental and 
bodily, which the human race endures arises 
from violations of moral duty. The prin- 
ciple of piety is the safeguard of all the vir- 
tues, and (as will be endeavoured to be shown 
hereafter) the source of the greatest hap- 
piness of which human nature is capable. 
Amid the various arguments which may be 
adduced to prove the truth of Christianity, 
sufficient attention seems not to have been 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 193 

paid to that which is derived from its abso- 
lute completeness as a system of practical 
religion and virtue. An attentive and re- 
flecting reader of the New Testament cannot 
fail to perceive that it lays down principles 
and precepts applicable to every possible 
situation and circumstance of human life. 
Interpreting the sacred volume with a due 
consideration of the figurative style which 
has been always in use among the eastern 
nations, and therefore refraining from too 
literal an interpretation of its contents, we 
may easily perceive that every one of its 
precepts tends to advance and to perfect 
the virtue and the happiness of man. Such, 
however, has been the unhappy perversion 
of the Christian religion both in principle 
and practice by those who have called them- 
selves the disciples of Christ, as to have 
greatly weakened, and often entirely pre- 
vented the beneficent effects which its doc- 
trines are calculated to produce. Instead 
of such heart-cheering representations of 
the goodness and mercy of the Deity as the 



194 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

study of his works suggest, and numberless 
passages both of the Old and the New Tes- 
tament confirm ; views of the character of 
God have been advanced which fill the soul 
with horror, and seem wholly irreconcile- 
able with any idea which we can form of 
justice, mercy or goodness. The Deity has 
been too often represented as a God, not 
of the universe, but of a nation, a church, 
a sect, or of a favoured few selected from 
the mass of his creatures. Particular in- 
stances need not be adduced • for no one 
tolerably well acquainted with the history of 
opinions in the Christian church can fail to 
be abundantly provided with them. Still, 
amid all the corruptions by which its in- 
fluence has been diminished, Christianity 
has conferred invaluable blessings on the 
world. It is in those countries where the 
Christian religion is established, and more 
especially where the right of private judge- 
ment in religion is most fully recognised, 
that intellect has made its furthest ad- 
vances, and virtue achieved its greatest tri- 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 195 

umphs. All however which has yet been ef- 
fected may be justly regarded as a foretaste 
of the happy results which will inevitably 
follow when the principles of Christianity 
shall exert a supreme influence on the un- 
derstandings and the hearts of men. 

It would by no means give an accurate 
idea of the benefits conferred upon the world 
by the Christian religion to confine our at- 
tention to the character and conduct of those 
who are deeply in earnest in their profession 
of it, and who sincerely and fervently endea- 
vour to regulate their conduct in strict obe- 
dience to its injunctions. Christianity has 
introduced feelings and habits which largely 
influence many who do not deeply feel its 
divine character, and not a few of those 
who doubt or deny its authority. Feelings 
excited and habits formed in early life do not 
easily quit their hold on human character. 
The sceptic or the unbeliever is often in- 
debted to the early instructions of a pious 
mother to an extent of which he is perhaps 
himself little aware. Unbelievers, it must 

k2 



196 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

also be remembered, are the associates of 
Christians in the ordinary intercourse of the 
world, and cannot therefore fail of being to 
some extent influenced by their example. 
Natural religion too has assumed quite a 
different form since the promulgation of 
Christianity from any which it had previ- 
ously attained. This is well known to every 
one who has even a superficial acquaintance 
with the speculations of the ancient philo- 
sophers on the subject of religion. Chris- 
tianity opened the road in which natural 
religion is now pursued by distinctly laying 
down the doctrine of the unity of God, and 
of his superintending providence, Nor can 
it be denied that natural religion has now 
much to offer calculated to convince the un- 
derstanding and deeply and beneficially to 
interest the heart. But it wholly fails in 
affording that full proof of a future state, 
and of the efficacy of repentance and faith, 
which can be derived from Christianity alone. 
It is however incumbent on Christians to 
treat unbelievers on all occasions with cour- 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 197 

tesy and kindness, and to refrain from the 
common practice of imputing their unbelief 
to bad motives. The evidences of the truth 
of the Christian religion appear to most of 
those who have studied them to amount to 
a moral demonstration ; and they feel fully 
convinced that no satisfactory account of its 
origin can be given which does not rest on 
divine authority. But we are not justified 
in condemning another. The human mind 
is beset by prejudices, and the wisest and the 
most candid are not wholly free from their 
influence. It is not for any man to decide 
whether another has rejected the Christian 
religion from bad motives or from prejudice, 
which, in his peculiar circumstances, was 
irresistible. To his own master the unbe- 
liever stands or falls. It may be the duty 
of the Christian to endeavour to convince 
and persuade the unbeliever ; but he is 
wholly unjustifiable if he vilify his charac- 
ter, or impute bad motives to him from the 
mere circumstance of his unbelief 

Happy to escape from any further allusion 



198 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

to the controversies which have arisen among 
Christians, to the bad passions which they 
have called forth, and to the oppression and 
cruelties which they have occasioned, let 
us now direct our attention to those duties 
which are enjoined by our holy religion, and 
which ought to regulate the daily conduct of 
all who admit its divine authority. We have 
now arrived at a station where there is no 
room for division, and nothing to excite our 
evil passions. The duties of a Christian life 
are alike binding on all, of whatever church 
or sect ; all are creatures of the same God ; 
all hope to partake of the same redemption. 

It has been attempted, in the foregoing 
essays, to point out the course of conduct 
which we ought to pursue in our families, 
in our social intercourse, in studious, in ac- 
tive and in political life. To this have 
been added some observations on the culti- 
vation and improvement of our moral prin- 
ciples and sentiments. It remains now to 
consider those virtues which are of a per- 
sonal nature, and to conclude the whole 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 199 

by a reference to the duties of which the 
Deity is the immediate object, and of our 
peculiar obligations as Christians. It is evi- 
dent that these subjects furnish materials for 
a large work. All that will be attempted 
here is to give a general view of the whole. 

No virtue is more frequently or more 
strongly insisted on in the New Testa- 
ment than humility ; and in proportion as 
we make ourselves acquainted with human 
nature shall we feel its importance. In the 
early period of life all are liable greatly to 
overrate their own abilities and acquire- 
ments ; and although circumstances com- 
pel us to make comparisons between our- 
selves and others, and often oblige us, 
however unwillingly, to acknowledge their 
superiority, yet the greater part of mankind 
continue through life to estimate themselves 
far beyond their deserts. 

The nature of humility is however often 
greatly misunderstood and misrepresented. 
It requires us to form a just sense of our 
sins, follies, errors and demerits of all sorts, 



200 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

but it requires no more. Every one is jus- 
tified, and even called upon, to make an ac- 
curate estimate of his own character in all 
particulars. Without this he can never ade- 
quately perform the duties of his station. 
Every reflecting man must of necessity be 
led to compare himself with others, particu- 
larly with those with whom he is in the habit 
of free and familiar communication, and he 
will not be often at a loss to discover in what 
respects he is superior and in what inferior 
to them. This knowledge is of the greatest 
importance in directing his own course of 
conduct. Pride, vanity and conceit no doubt 
dispose the generality of mankind greatly to 
overrate themselves ; but it can hardly be 
doubted that instances are to be found of 
persons who do not sufficiently estimate their 
own talents and acquirements, and whose 
usefulness is thereby diminished. 

The state of things in this age and coun- 
try is very unfavorable to the virtue of 
humility. The extent to wbich luxury and 
self-indulgence are carried, and the compe- 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 201 

tition of vanity which has become nearly 
universal, have increased our artificial wants 
far beyond what nature and reason require, 
and have excited so general and so ardent a 
desire to possess wealth and distinction as to 
make life for the most part a continual 
struggle, in which the display in every way 
in our power of the talents and knowledge 
which we possess forms an essential part. 
Nothing can be more contrary to true humi- 
lity than this perpetual glorifying of our- 
selves. Even those who are least disposed 
to an over-estimate of themselves, and are 
most deeply conscious of their own defici- 
encies, can hardly escape being forced into 
this contest of display. The quiet and re- 
tiring habits which are most congenial to a 
really humble man are not a little unfavor- 
able to success in life in any line. It has al- 
ready been said, that none of the virtues are 
likely to lead to great success in the world ; 
and humility is perhaps more injurious to a 
man's interest than any other virtue. 

Though our connexions with the human 

k5 



202 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

race give occasion for the exercise of humi- 
lity, it is our relation to our Creator which 
should call it forth in its widest extent. 
Compared with Him we are nothing ; and 
our humiliation in his sight cannot be too 
deep and lasting. But humility founded on 
religious considerations will take a differ- 
ent form according to the condition of the 
mind, which will depend on the moral and 
religious discipline to which it has been 
subjected. In the early period of life all, 
and through its whole duration by far the 
greater part of those who are under the 
influence of religious principles, consider 
themselves as independent beings ; deser- 
ving praise for their virtues and blame for 
their vices ; and, considered in respect to 
our fellow r -creatures, these views are just. 
But they fall far short of a correct idea of 
the relation in w r hich we stand to our Maker. 
In proportion as our reason is strengthened, 
as our moral sentiments are improved, and as 
we study the sacred volume, we relinquish by 
degrees our notions of independent existence, 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 203 

and perceive at length that we are nothing of 
our ourselves, but are merely instruments in 
the hands of the Deity for effecting his wise 
and benevolent purposes. At first, and for 
a long time, we make a wide distinction be- 
tween what we consider our own virtues, 
namely, such as are derived from natural 
good dispositions, and those which have their 
source in the instructions contained in the 
sacred Scriptures and in the spiritual influ- 
ences of religion. The former we consider as 
properly our own, the latter as the gift of 
God. Those, however, who think deeply on 
religion will find this distinction to vanish in 
time, and will be enabled by degrees to realize 
the indisputable fact, that all we have and all 
we are is God's ; that we owe our reason and 
our moral nature as much to him as the doc- 
trines and spiritual privileges of the Gospel. 
In this state and frame of mind God is in- 
deed all in all. We see and recognise him 
alike in our reason, our moral nature, and 
the sacred truths of revealed religion. What- 
ever there may be of excellence in our cha- 



204 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

raeters we acknowledge to be his gift, and 
trace to him as its original source. In our- 
selves we behold nothing but the recipients 
of his bounty. 

That every kind and degree of intempe- 
rance and impurity is forbidden in the Scrip- 
tures, and is directly opposed to the spirit of 
Christianity, can be doubted by none who 
have any serious impressions of religion and 
a competent acquaintance with the contents 
of the sacred volume. It behoves every se- 
rious Christian, then, deeply to consider how 
much there is in the prevailing systems of 
education, and in the ordinary habits and in- 
tercourse of society, which tends to promote 
intemperance and licentiousness. These sub- 
jects can only be referred to very generally 
here. They afford topics on which many 
volumes might be written. 

The proper business of education is to 
prepare the youthful mind for fulfilling the 
duties and enjoying the innocent pleasures 
of life. Anything which does not tend 
to these ends is extraneous and useless. 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 205 

The improvement of the intellectual facul- 
ties, the communication of knowledge, the 
development and right direction of the 
moral sentiments, instruction in the great 
truths of revelation, and the love of vir- 
tue and religion, are the great objects of 
a just and sound system of education. Is 
there any one of the existing modes of in- 
struction in which these ends are pursued 
by the best means, and each in a degree 
proportioned to its relative importance ? 
In the opinion of many who have thought 
deeply and anxiously on the subject, this 
question must be answered in the negative. 
A work on education, fully and adequately 
discussing it under the foregoing heads, is 
the great desideratum of our literature ; but 
it would require the comprehensive genius 
of Bacon, and far more moral excellence 
than adorned his character, to accomplish 
such a w r ork. One so gifted we must not 
expect to see ; but we have many writers 
capable of conferring a great benefit on 
society, if they could be induced to turn 



206 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

their attention to this most important sub- 
ject. It is obviously the duty of Christian 
parents and instructors to prevent their chil- 
dren and scholars from reading all books of 
an immoral tendency. This is by no means 
so easy a matter as those who have not seri- 
ously considered the subject may suppose. 
In much even of the best of our literature, 
and particularly in works of fiction, passages 
are to be found of a decidedly immoral ten- 
dency. It was justly said of Thomson, that 
his writings contained 

" Not one immoral, one corrupted thought, 
One line which dying he could wish to blot." 

The same praise may be justly given to Mr. 
Wordsworth ; and perhaps a few (it is to be 
feared but few) names among the authors 
of works of imagination might be added to 
the list. 

The impurities which are to be found in 
connexion with dramatic representations and 
the arts of painting and sculpture have al- 
ready been adverted to ; and to these may 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 207 

be added the licentiousness which sometimes 
disgraces conversation ; though in this last 
particular we are certainly much less cen- 
surable than our forefathers. Its trifling 
character and its censoriousness are the 
prominent faults of modern conversation. 

All which has hitherto been said is but 
introductory to that which is the ultimate 
object of our being, the most pure and ex- 
alted felicity of which we are capable, the 
love and adoration of the infinite perfections 
of the Deity. Here there can be no excess. 
We may exalt and enlarge our ideas to the 
utmost, and we shall still feel that finite 
minds can only comprehend feebly and im- 
perfectly some small part of that which is 
infinite. The intellectual and the moral fa- 
culties are by far the most important parts 
of human nature ; and they point alike to 
the Deity. We delight in the exercise of the 
intellect, and look with admiration on the 
productions of genius ; but our thoughts ex- 
tend far beyond this, and our minds are car- 
ried on to the contemplation of the infinite 



208 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

intelligence of God. All our conceptions, 
indeed, on this subject are inadequate and 
confused ; but the more we study his works 
and his word, the more deeply do we feel 
impressed with a sense of his perfections, 
and the further removed from the conflicts 
of interest and ambition and the unhallowed 
passions of the world. 

But surrounded as we are on all sides by 
evil examples, and liable as our passions 
(which are given to us for a good purpose) 
are to run to excess and take an ill direction, 
our reason to err, and our conscience to be 
misled, it requires the most constant and 
vigilant attention and the most determined 
resolution, strengthened by all the spiritual 
aids which God has given us, to enable us to 
pursue a steady and undeviating course in 
the paths of duty. 

It seems reasonable to expect that the 
teachers of religion would present the bright- 
est examples of its influence on the charac- 
ter ; and perhaps they do so. They are, how- 
ever, exposed to peculiar temptations of am- 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 209 

bition and interest, which often exercise a 
most unhappy influence directly on their own 
characters, and indirectly on those who look 
up to thern for instruction and example. 
Ambition is the besetting sin of almost all 
who fill the higher stations in society ; and 
its effects are never more deplorable than 
when it is the actuating principle of ecclesi- 
astics. Tyrannical power in the hands of 
laymen is supported and extended by the 
fear of the temporal evils which will proba- 
bly be the consequence of resistance. The 
ecclesiastic adds to these the terrors which 
arise from an apprehension of the punish- 
ments which will await the offender in an- 
other world. Armed with this instrument, 
the power of the church of Rome in the mid- 
dle ages became irresistible. All civil au- 
thority sank before it, and the feet of popes 
trampled on the necks of kings. The Re- 
formation, (which, be it remembered, was a 
reform as well within the church of Rome as 
without) and the general advance and dif- 
fusion of knowledge which have resulted 



210 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

from the invention of printing, seem to have 
made it impossible that such a state of 
things should ever exist again in the world ; 
but in all countries where the clergy fill ex- 
alted stations in society, we may be quite 
certain that some will be found disposed to 
pervert religion to the purposes of ambition. 
In this country the Archbishop of Canter- 
bury enjoys the highest rank after the royal 
family; and the Lord Chancellor alone stands 
between him and the Archbishop of York. 
The bishops are lords of parliament, and 
sit and vote in the House of Lords. With 
such prizes in view it is not to be ex- 
pected that the higher clergy should be free 
from ambition. There are also deaneries, 
canonries, &c, which are objects of desire 
to the clergy. The great majority, how- 
ever, of the clerical order are happily not 
in the way of being much corrupted by 
worldly views. Thousands of the parochial 
clergy spend their lives in the unostenta- 
tious performance of the arduous duties of 
their stations, far removed from the snares 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 



211 



of ambition ; and each, in his circle, the 
centre from whence the beams of knowledge, 
refinement and religion irradiate his parish- 
ioners. 

The situation of dissenting teachers does 
not usually place the incitements of ambition 
in their way, but they have temptations of 
their own of the most forcible character. 
A dissenting minister is in general chiefly 
supported by the voluntary contributions of 
his congregation, and in many cases enjoys 
no other means of providing for himself and 
his family. How difficult it must be for a 
man so circumstanced to pursue an inde- 
pendent course, without being influenced 
by an undue desire to conciliate the favour 
of those who can at any time deprive him 
of his livelihood, may be easily under- 
stood. 

It is, then, far from easy even for men 
whose profession leads them to the daily 
study of religion, and who are constantly 
employed in administering to the wants 
spiritual and temporal of others, to keep 



212 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

themselves " unspotted from the world:" 
how much more difficult must it be for 
those whose general avocations are not 
immediately connected with religion ! To 
counteract the corrupting influences of the 
world, we must avail ourselves of every 
means of improvement which our holy re- 
ligion affords. 

The first step in religion is a deep sense 
of our own sinfulness. If we offend or in- 
jure a fellow-creature, we may have the 
means in our power of making him an ade- 
quate compensation ; but nothing of this 
kind can take place in respect to the Deity. 
We are the work of his hands, and are bound 
to yield to him the obedience of our whole 
lives. All we have is from his bounty, and 
we can never deserve any reward from 
him. Even were our obedience perfect, we 
should still be unprofitable servants. We 
must then feel that if we offend in any point 
we are justly amenable to punishment, and 
can entertain no hope of pardon but from 
the mercy of God. It is Christianity alone 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 213 

which gives rest to our souls by revealing 
to us that " God so loved the world, that he 
}'' gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever 
" believeth in him should not perish, but 
" have everlasting life." Cheered by this 
unspeakably important truth, our hearts 
should overflow with gratitude and love, 
first to Almighty God, the Author of our 
salvation, and secondly, to Jesus Christ, 
who died for our sins. Let us then consider 
the means in our power of improving and 
strengthening the pious affections of the 
soul. 

Of the importance of prayer no real Chris- 
tian can doubt. The objections to it, though 
plausible, may be easily answered, even on 
the principles of natural religion ; and the 
Christian Scriptures abound with exhorta- 
tions to pray. Our Saviour himself has 
given us a form of prayer, which may 
be properly considered as a summary of 
our principal wants, temporal and spiri- 
tual. " Pray without ceasing," is the di- 
rection of the Apostle Paul, which implies 



214 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

the cultivation of a devotional spirit, and 
being frequently engaged in the act of 
prayer*. 

Prayer may be considered under three 
heads ; private prayer, family prayer, and 
public prayer. A few observations will be 
introduced under each of them. It may, 
however, be observed, that it seems de- 
sirable that all prayers should be short. 
None in the Holy Scriptures are of any 
considerable length. Our Lord's prayer is 
very short ; and the preceding commands, 
" When ye pray, use not vain repetitions, 
"as the heathen do," and, "After this 
" manner, therefore, pray ye," seem to 
show that it is intended to direct us as 
w^ell to the length as to the matter of our 
prayers. It is entirely consonant to reason 
that prayers should be short. Our addresses 
to the Deity ought to be always made with 
the most fixed attention, and with the sense 

* Barrow's sermons on this text are well deserving the 
serious attention of every one who would acquire and 
improve a devotional character. 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 215 

of his presence as fully realized as the infir- 
mity of our nature will permit. It is most 
injurious to the spirit of piety to address 
God with the lips, while the mind is wander- 
ing on some other subject ; and the constant 
habit of doing so can scarcely fail to weaken 
the devotional feelings, and to diminish our 
reverence for the great Author of our being. 
It is far better not to pray at all, than merely 
to utter the words of piety w^hile the mind is 
engaged with other thoughts and the heart 
is unaffected. Our conception of the pre- 
sence of the Deity is so overwhelming, and 
our attempts adequately to express our de- 
votional feelings towards him are so ex- 
hausting, that human nature cannot for any 
considerable length of time be exalted to 
such a pitch of elevated feeling as direct 
addresses to the Deity require. In pub- 
lic prayer, indeed, the sympathies and the 
concurrence of our fellow-worshipers may 
add something to our power of keeping 
alive the devotional feelings ; but even with 
this assistance the proper tone of the mind 



216 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

can never be kept up for any considerable 
time. 

Private prayer should be the declaration 
of our individual wants and desires ; and of 
course will be often best expressed by the 
language suggested by the occasion ; but the 
far greater part of what we ought to pray 
for, whether of a secular or of a religious 
character, is such as is of constant occur- 
rence, and therefore may be properly, and 
will indeed be best set forth by premeditated 
forms of prayer. The minds, too, of even 
really pious persons will be often languid and 
incapable of producing extemporally just and 
adequate expressions of devotion. On all 
such occasions, prayers composed either by 
themselves or others will be highly useful. 
In using premeditated prayer, too, we en- 
joy all the benefit arising from the previous 
reflection which has been engaged in se- 
lecting the most proper subjects, and ex- 
pressing them in the most appropriate lan- 
guage. Forms of private prayer must ever, 
therefore, be considered of great importance. 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 217 

If we would keep alive a deep and heart- 
influencing sense of religion in the soul, we 
must use regularly appropriated seasons for 
private prayer. " There cannot," says one 
whose heart was deeply imbued with the 
spirit of devotion*, " be a more fatal de- 
" lusion than to suppose that religion is 
" nothing but a divine philosophy in the 
" soul, and that the theopathetic affections 
" may exist and flourish there, though they 
" be not cultivated by devout exercises and 
" expressions." 

" A regularity as to the times of private 
" devotion," says the same writer, " helps to 
" keep persons steady in a religious course, 
" and to call them off again and again from 
* ' pursuing and setting their hearts upon the 
" vanities of the world. And we may affirm 
" in particular, that the morning and evening 
" sacrifice of private prayer and praise ought 
" never to be dispensed with, in ordinary 
*' cases, not even by persons far advanced 
" in the ways of piety. It seems also very 

* Hartley. 

L 



218 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

" consonant to the true spirit of devotion 
" to have set hours of prayer in the course 
" of the day, as memorials and means of 
" begetting this spirit, which, however, can- 
" not be observed by the bulk of the world 
" with exactness. Lastly, it will be of great 
" use to accustom ourselves to certain ejacu- 
" lations upon the various particular occa- 
" sions that occur in the daily course of each 
" person's business and profession." 

The following are the observations of this 
profound thinker and most pious writer on 
the subject-matter of private prayer and on 
public and family prayer : — " The matter of 
" our prayers must be different according 
" to the state we are in ; for in prayer 
" we ought always to lay our real case, 
" whatever it be, before God. Confession 
" of sins and petition for graces are the 
" most useful and requisite for young peni- 
" tents, and must always have a considerable 
" share in those who are further advanced. 
" But when the heart overflows with joy 
" and gratitude to God, and tender love to 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 219 

" others, which is more frequently the case 
" with those who have kept their first love 
" for some time, it is easy to see that praise 
" and intercession must be most natural and 
" suitable. Temporal wants ought not to 
" be forgotten. We are to acknowledge 
" God in everything; consider him as our 
" father and only friend upon all occasions ; 
" place no confidence in our own wisdom or 
" strength, or in the course of nature ; have 
" moderate desires, and be ready to give up 
" even these. Now prayer, with express 
" acts of resignation in respect of external 
" things, has a tendency to beget in us such 
" dispositions. However, I do not extend 
" this to such persons as are resigned to 
" God in all things, temporal and spiritual, 
" for themselves as well as others, who, de- 
" siring nothing but that the will of God be 
" done, see also that it is done, acquiesce 
" and rejoice in it. 

" Prayer must always be accompanied by 
" faith, i. e. we must not only look up to 
" God as our sole refuge, but as an effectual 

l2 



220 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

" one. He that believes the existence and 
" attributes of God really and practically, 
" will have this entire confidence, so as to 
" be assured that the thing desired of God 
" will be granted, either precisely as desired, 
" or in some way more suitable to his cir- 
" cumstances ; an act of resignation being 
" here joined to one of faith. How far our 
" Saviour's directions concerning faith in 
" prayer are an encouragement and com- 
" mand to expect the precise thing desired, 
" is very doubtful to me. However, we 
" may certainly learn from his example, that 
" resignation is a necessary requisite in 
" prayer; that we ought always to say, we- 
" vertheless, not my will but thine be done. 

" Public prayer is a necessary duty as 
" well as private. By this we publicly pro- 
" fess our obedience to God through Christ ; 
" we excite and are excited by others to 
1 ' fervency of devotion and to Christian be- 
" nevolence ; and we have a claim to the 
" promise of Christ to those who are assem- 
" bled together in his name. The Christian 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 221 

" religion has been kept alive, as one may 
" say, during the great corruption and apo~ 
" stasy, by the public worship of God in 
" churches ; and it is probable that reli- 
" gious assemblies will be much more fre- 
" quent than they now are, whenever it 
" shall please God to put it into the hearts 
" of Christians to proceed to the conversion 
" of all nations. We ought, therefore, to 
" prepare ourselves for, and hasten unto, 
" this glorious time, as much as possible, by 
" joining together in prayers for this pur- 
" pose ; and so much the more, as we see the 
" day approaching. 

" Family prayer, which is something be- 
" tween the public prayers of each church, 
" and the private ones of each individual, 
" must be necessary, since these are. The 
" same reasons are easily applied." 

Little need be added to these admirable 
passages. It is not so easy a matter to pray 
as there is reason to fear it is commonly 
thought to be. To say one's prayers, in- 
deed, to repeat words in the form of a direct 



222 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

address to God is not difficult ; but this alone 
does not deserve the name of prayer. Real 
prayer requires the mind to be abstracted 
from external influences, and the heart to be 
warmed by devotional feelings. This is the 
state to which we ought to strive to the ut- 
most, by reading the devotional parts of the 
Holy Scriptures and the writings of pious 
men, and by serious meditation, to bring 
our minds, when we engage in the solemn 
service of kneeling before the throne of grace 
in prayer. 

Many persons of intellectual character, 
and largely acquainted with literature and 
science, either abstain altogether from at- 
tendance on public worship, or very rarety 
attend it. It would be uncandid to conclude 
that the characters of these individuals are 
entirely wanting in religious principles and 
feelings • and it is well known that Milton 
(whom no one can doubt to have been pro- 
foundly religious both in principle and feel- 
ing) discontinued, in the latter part of his 
life, his attendance on public worship. Nor 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 223 

is his a solitary instance. To such persons 
the following reflections are addressed. The 
expressed sentiments of the author of the 
Epistle to the Hebrews, in the following pass- 
age, must be conclusive to all who acknow- 
ledge the authority of that book* : " Let us 
" consider one another to provoke unto love 
" and to good works : not forsaking the as- 
11 sembling of ourselves together, as the man- 
" ner of some is ; but exhorting one another : 
" and so much the more, as we see the day 
" approaching. " It can hardly be denied by 
any one who thinks seriously on the subject, 
that the assembling of Christians together 
every Sunday in public worship will natu- 
rally excite some degree of mutual regard for 
one another. A man must have a heart un- 



* It is well known that in early times many disputed 
the authority of this Epistle, and that we have no cer- 
tain knowledge who was its author. It was, however, 
received by the great body of Christians into the canon. 
Lardner has brought together, with his usual fulness and 
fairness, the arguments respecting its author. Those in 
favor of its having been written by the Apostle Paul 
seem greatly to preponderate. 



224 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

usually cold and callous who feels no inter- 
est in the well-being of those who are his 
constant fellow-worshipers in the house of 
prayer. Neither can it be denied that our 
sympathy with those around us must tend 
to excite and to increase our devotional feel- 
ings. But even supposing it could be proved 
that no benefit would be derived by the class 
of individuals in question from attendance 
on public worship, they ought still to recol- 
lect, that, although it would be a great error 
to suppose that the influence of any indivi- 
dual in the world bears an exact proportion 
to his intellect and knowledge, yet it is most 
certain that the educated and intellectual 
classes exercise a most extensive influence 
in the way of example on the rest of the 
community. The following observations of 
Paley are deserving of the most serious con- 
sideration : — " If the worship of God be a 
11 duty of religion, public worship is a neces- 
" sary institution ; forasmuch as, without it, 
1 ' the greater part of mankind would exercise 
" no religious worship at all. 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 225 

cf These assemblies afford also, at the same 
time, opportunities for moral and religious 
instruction to those who would otherwise 
receive none. In all Protestant and in most 
Christian countries, the elements of natu- 
ral religion and the important parts of the 
Evangelic history are familiar to the lowest 
of the people. This competent degree and 
general diffusion of religious knowledge 
amongst all orders of Christians, which 
will appear a great thing when compared 
with the intellectual condition of barbarous 
nations, can fairly, I think, be ascribed to 
no other cause than the regular establish- 
ment of assemblies for divine worship ; 
in which, either portions of Scripture are 
recited and explained, or the principles 
of Christian erudition are so constantly 
taught in sermons, incorporated with 
liturgies, or expressed in extemporary 
prayer, as to imprint, by the very repeti- 
tion, some knowledge and memory of these 
subjects upon the most unqualified and 
careless hearer. 

l 5 



226 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

" The two reasons above stated bind all 
' the members of the community to uphold 
1 public worship by their presence and ex- 
1 ample, although the helps and opportuni- 
' ties which it affords may not be necessary 
' to the devotion and edification of all, and 
' to some may be useless ; for it is easily 
1 foreseen, how soon religious assemblies 
' would fall into contempt and disuse, if that 
' class of mankind who are above seeking 
' instruction in them, and want not that 
' their own piety should be assisted by 
' either forms or society in devotion, w T ere 
' to withdraw their attendance ; especially 
' when it is considered, that all who please 
' are at liberty to rank themselves of this 
1 class." 

The importance of family prayer is pretty 
generally admitted, and it is much more 
practised now than it was in the earlier pe- 
riod of the present century. " The peculiar 
" use," says Paley, " of family piety consists 
" in its influence upon servants and the 
" younger members of a family, who want 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 227 

" sufficient seriousness and reflection to re- 
" tire of their own accord to the exercise of 
" private devotion, and whose attention you 
" cannot easily command in public worship. 
" The example also and authority of a father 
" and master act in this way with the great - 
" est force ; for his private prayers, to which 
" his children and servants are not wit- 
" nesses, act not at all upon them as ex- 
• ' amples ; and his attendance upon public 
" worship they will readily impute to fashion, 
" to a care to preserve appearances, to a con- 
* ' cern for decency of character, and to many 
" motives besides a sense of duty to God." 
It seems, indeed, strange that any one can 
doubt that the daily assembling of a family 
for the purpose of offering up their united 
prayers to the great Being to whom they owe 
their existence and all their enjoyment, can 
fail to produce impressions more or less fa- 
vorable to devotional feeling and to the 
practice of the duties of religion. How far 
the reading of the Scriptures, or any other 
mode of religious instruction ought to be 



228 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

connected with family prayer, must be left 
to each person to judge for himself. One 
caution seems necessary. The prayers and 
religious instruction of a family should be 
short. We should endeavor (if possible) to 
make servants look to joining in family 
prayer as a privilege ; and should carefully 
avoid continuing them engaged in it so long 
as to make them consider it, rightly or 
wrongly, as an encroachment on the time 
which is required for their work. 

In Catholic countries people have the 
privilege of resorting to the churches when- 
ever they please, as they are open during 
the greater part of the day ; and, besides the 
very frequent public services, individuals 
have the opportunity of offering their pri- 
vate devotions at any time in places conse- 
crated exclusively to the purposes of religion. 
It is to be regretted that protestants have 
adopted a different course. Our noble ca- 
thedrals, the glory of the middle ages, and 
by far the finest specimens of architecture 
which we possess, are generally locked up, 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 229 

except in service time, and we have no 
means of visiting them without paying for 
it ; and are often hurried through them 
by an impatient verger. There are, however, 
at present exceptions ; and the public are 
admitted to at least part of some of our finest 
cathedrals during a large portion of the day 
without being subject to the payment of 
any fee. Surely this should be universally 
the case. The offering up of private prayers 
in churches, would, perhaps, in the present 
state of our habits and feelings, be deemed 
ostentatious. By degrees however it would 
probably come into practice if the churches 
were always open ; and it may be safely 
asserted that every one possessed of any 
degree of religious feeling, who takes a soli- 
tary walk in one of our Gothic cathedrals, 
erected by the piety of our forefathers in 
that grand and majestic style which belongs 
exclusively to ecclesiastical architecture, and 
devoted for ages to religious services, must 
be influenced by the genius and associations 
of the place, and feel his heart warmed and 



230 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

expanded by devotion ; nor will he easily 
refrain from giving expression, at least 
mentally, to feelings of praise and adora- 
tion of the great Creator. 

Prayer may be considered in two lights. 
As the expression of our love, our grati- 
tude, our reverence, our awe, our profound- 
est adoration of the divine perfections, it is 
a most important and an essential Christian 
duty. But its importance extends far be- 
yond this, as it is one of the most powerful 
means of bringing our minds to that entire 
conformity and perfect resignation to the 
will of God, and that constant reliance on 
his providence, which is the perfection of 
our nature. " When men," says Hartley, 
" have entered sufficiently into the ways of 
" piety, God appears more and more to 
" them in the whole course and tenor of their 
" lives ; and by uniting himself with all their 
" sensations and intellectual perceptions, 
" overpowers all the pains, augments and 
" attracts to himself all the pleasures. Every 
" thing sweet, beautiful, or glorious, brings 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 231 

" in the idea of God, mixes with it, and 
" vanishes into it. For all is God's ; he is 
" the only cause and reality ; and the exist- 
" ence of everything else is only the effect, 
" pledge, and proof, of his existence and 
" glory. Let the mind be once duly sea- 
" soned with this truth, and its practical 
" applications, and every the most indiffer- 
" ent thing will become food for religious 
" meditation, a book of devotion, and a 
" psalm of praise." 

" There is nothing," says a most pious 
writer*, " wise, or holy, or just, but the great 
" will of God. This is as strictly true in 
ct the most rigid sense, as to say, that no- 
" thing is infinite and eternal but God. No 
" being, therefore, whether in heaven or on 
" earth, can be wise, or holy, or just, but so 
" far as they conform to this will of God. 
"It is conformity to this will that gives 
" virtue and perfection to the highest ser- 
" vices of angels in heaven; and it is con- 
" formity to the same will that makes the 

* Law's Serious Call, chap. 22. 



232 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

" ordinary actions of men on earth become 
" an acceptable service unto God. Resig- 
" nation to the divine will signifies a cheer- 
" ml approbation and thankful acceptance 
" of everything that comes from God. It 
" is not enough patiently to submit, but we 
" must thankfully receive, and fully approve 
" of everything that by order of God's pro- 
" vidence happens to us." 

It is to attain this conformity to the will 
of God, so that our wills may be completely 
identified with and absorbed in his, that our 
most strenuous endeavours should be di- 
rected. " The love and contemplation,' ' 
says Hartley, " of his perfection and happi- 
" ness will transform us into his likeness, 
" into that image of him in which we were 
" first made; will make us partakers of the 
" divine nature*, and consequently of the 
" perfection and happiness of it. Our wills 
" may be thus united to his will, and there- 
" fore rendered free from disappointment; 
" we shall, by degrees, see everything as 

* 2 Peter, i. 4. 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 233 

" God sees it, i. e. everything that he has 
" made to he good, to be an object of plea- 
" sure." 

To arrive at this complete conformity and 
entire resignation to the will of God, re- 
quires all the aids which prayer, reading 
and meditation, made effectual by the divine 
blessing, can afford us. It does not require 
that we should reject the innocent pleasures 
of life ; and it neither requires, nor in gene- 
ral allows us to quit our respective stations 
in the world, and, for the purpose of keep- 
ing ourselves out of the way of temptation, 
and devoting our time exclusively to prayer, 
reading, and meditation on religion, to with- 
draw from situations of usefulness to our 
fellow-men. When indeed health has de- 
cayed, the spirits are broken by calamities 
which have pressed too severely for the 
mind to bear up against them, or the intel- 
lect is impaired by age and infirmity, a re- 
tirement from the world may be allowed ; 
and nothing then remains but submission 
to the divine will, and a humble hope of 



234 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

future happiness in the state to which we 
are all hastening. But as long as health 
and strength, and the power of doing good 
to others remain, no man can be justified 
in relinquishing the active duties of life. 

Let us not, however, think, because we are 
not required by our religion to retire from the 
active business, or to relinquish the innocent 
enjoyments of life, that the state of christian 
warfare in which we must be engaged so 
long as we exist in the world, and are ex- 
posed to its temptations, does not require the 
most constant vigilance, the most strenuous 
exertions, and the daily exercise of self- 
denial. If we would serve God with our 
whole heart, we must renounce every kind 
and degree of vicious indulgence. Sensual- 
ity, impurity, intemperance, censoriousness, 
vanity, pride, ambition, as well as the black 
passions, hatred, revenge and cruelty, must 
all be renounced. If we allow ourselves in 
the indulgence of any one of these, or of any 
other known sin, we are altogether unwor- 
thy of the name of Christians. We must 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 235 

strive daily and with all our might against 
these things ; and when, through the infir- 
mity of our nature, the strength of our pas- 
sions, or the influence of evil example, we 
are led to offend, we must immediately re- 
trace our steps by a deep and heart-felt re- 
pentance. We should hold no compromise 
with moral evil in any shape ; but should 
pursue our course, with full purpose of soul, 
with bumble supplications to the throne of 
grace, and with entire reliance on the divine 
assistance, towards that state of perfect holi- 
ness to which Christianity is fitted to lead us. 
This indeed the best may never reach ; 
but we may, if not wanting to ourselves, 
and we must if we earnestly endeavour to 
do so, make continual advances towards it. 
A deep sense of the perfections of the Deity, 
if it do not annihilate, will at least greatly 
assuage and relieve our sorrows. Among 
the ordinary calamities of life, none are so 
grievous as our separation by death from 
those we love, and who have long been the 
tender objects of our constant care and at- 



236 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

tention. In the nearest and dearest rela- 
tions of life this affliction is indeed over- 
whelming. How unspeakable are the con- 
solations of religion to those who are thus 
broken in spirit ! Christianity calls our 
attention to the comparative insignificance 
of this world considered in any other light 
than as a preparation for a better. It re- 
minds us that it was never intended to be 
our abiding city, but that it is a mere 
temporary sojourn, and He with whom are 
the issues of life best knows at what time, 
and under what circumstances, to remove us 
from this first stage of our existence. The 
Christian will indulge in the pleasing hope 
that our tender and virtuous affections will 
be continued and improved in the unseen 
state, and purified from whatever corruption 
they have contracted in this world. The 
mourner will feel that those he loved, and 
of whose society God has deprived him, will 
only precede him by a few fleeting years in 
that path which all are destined to tread. 
With such supports and consolations it will 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 237 

be impossible to mourn " as those who 
" have no hope." The deep anguish which 
must at first seize upon the heart on the 
death of those we love, will by degrees sink 
into a more moderate grief, and ultimately 
subside into feelings of tender regret, min- 
gled with the cheering hope of being again 
united with them in the world to come. The 
mind of the religious man will cherish the 
recollection of those he loved, whose re- 
mains have been consigned to the grave, 
with a tender interest of which the worldly- 
minded can form no idea, which is calculated 
to soften and improve the heart, and to pre- 
pare us for that pure and holy state which 
awaits the righteous in the world to come. 
This world is a passing scene which we are 
soon to quit. It has not pleased Almighty 
God to give us any distinct information re- 
specting the condition of the blessed in a 
future state. It is enough for us in general 
to know that it will be a state of purity and 
of happiness. It is however impossible for 
those whose minds have been deeply en- 



238 RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

gaged in studying human nature, and the 
principles and doctrines of natural and re- 
vealed religion, not to form some conjectures 
on this most important subject ; and when 
their reflections are pursued in the spirit of 
humility, and with a deep conviction of the 
inability of the mind of man, in its present 
state, to form any other than feeble and in- 
adequate ideas of the future world, such 
considerations tend to exalt and purify the 
mind. The social principle by which we 
sympathize and are united in affection with 
our fellow- creatures, seems essential to 
our nature ; and we may naturally expect 
that it will form part of our felicity in the 
world to come ; exalted and purified, and 
closely and indissolubly connected with the 
idea of God as the giver of this and of all 
other good. To Him we must expect that 
our profoundest gratitude, veneration and 
love, will be undeviatingly directed. We 
may hope to have our understandings en- 
larged and our hearts improved ; to see 
and feel more clearly his unspeakable per- 



RELIGIOUS LIFE. 239 

fections ; to rejoice more and more in 
clearer manifestations of the wisdom and 
goodness displayed in the whole system of 
the universe, and to behold in everything 

" Him first, Him last, Him midst and without end." 

Here is presented to us an employment 
suited to call forth the highest powers of 
our intellects, and most profoundly to inter- 
est the noblest feelings of our hearts. The 
countless ages of eternity may well be em- 
ployed in searching out the perfections of 
God, which even the most exalted creatures 
whom he has formed can never be able fully 
to comprehend ; for how shall finite intel- 
lects understand that which is infinite ? We 
may advance more and more in our know- 
ledge of Him ; but still a vast and unfa- 
thomable expanse will lie before us. 

" Come then, expressive Silence, muse His praise." 
THE END. 



PRINTED BY RICHARD AND JOHN E. TAYLOR, 
RED LION COURT, FLEET STREET. 



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